


The Stars Above

by MyWildestWords



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Consensual Sex, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Era, Love, M/M, Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 60,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27722687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyWildestWords/pseuds/MyWildestWords
Summary: Jessica Smiles is excited to start her fifth year at Hogwarts. She's finally found a solid group of friends that accept her for who she is, and don't let her past scare them. Still, it lingers above her like a dark cloud, and she can't shake the feeling that the day where she can no longer outrun her past is coming. When Death Eaters attack the World Cup and come to find her, she knows they will come for her. Despite the nightmares and worry she faces, she strives to make this year a memorable one. With the Triwizard Tournament around the corner, new students and a challenge to herself to seek self-improvement, doors are begin to open for Jessica. When faith decides to bring a pair of red-haired twins with a love for laughter and pranks into her life, change is coming. An unlikely friendship forms, and she's taking along on more adventures than she could have dreamed of. When being around George begins making her light-headed and happy, she's wondering whether there could ever be something more between them. Forest adventures, soaring through a starry night sky and exploring the hidden gems of Hogwarts make falling in love easy. What comes next, however, isn't.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), George Weasley/Original Character(s), George Weasley/Original Female Character(s), George Weasley/Reader, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Comments: 25
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!  
> First of all, this is going to be a slowburn George Weasley/Original female character romance, so if you`re into that, you`re in for a good time. My aim was that it reads more like a novel than your average fanfiction, and it`s therefor plot and character driven. It has a lot of detail about Hogwarts and the wizarding world which has been fun to explore, but in order to fit my story I`ve had to do some minor adjustments on side character ages and such. There will be lots of fluff and smut in later chapters, but I`ll warn you before. Happy reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: The universe and most characters belong to Jk Rowling. I just do with them as I please.

It was a quiet Monday in August, not entirely unlike many other Mondays that came and went throughout the summer. I had watched the clock strike twelve, and then one, and two, and three, until eventually I drifted off to a restless sleep. I woke up drenched in sweat, and despite the troubled dreams that haunted me, I did not wish to get out of bed. My body felt heavy and half-asleep, my head pounding, but I knew it wouldn't do me well to fall asleep again now. Just a few more days, I reminded myself, glancing over at the open suitcase on the floor. Just a few more days.  
"Breakfast" A voice comes from downstairs, earning a groan from me.  
I rolled over to the side and saw that it was 7 am, pushing the drenched covers off of me before tiptoeing to the bathroom. After a quick shower and a change of fresh pajamas I headed to the kitchen, cringing as the floorboards creaked beneath me. The hallway had been left in what her grandparents would consider chaos, with two suitcases and matching weekend bags lined up neatly. There was a woven sun hat on top of one of them, and a map on the other, and the calendar hanging above it reminded her that her grandparents would be heading to Spain for their holiday soon. I put on a smile as I round the corner and find my grandmother making pancakes, humming a soft tune to herself.  
"Good morning," I say, my voice still husky from the night. I clear it and make sure to cover the tiredness I feel with an extra bright smile, but she doesn't seem to notice.  
She pats me lightly on the shoulder as I reach over her to grab a plate, gratefully accepting a pancake from her and dousing it in sugar. My grandfather is already sitting at the table reading the newspaper, his legs crossed at the ankle, his feet in tartan slippers, his plate forgotten before him.  
"Did you sleep well darling?" He asked me without looking up.  
"Very well thank you," I replied, busying myself with my food for a moment before thinking of something that could break the silence. "Are you excited for your holiday?"  
"We are," He huffed.  
Her grandmother joined them at the table and smiled softly at me. Her face was round and softened by age, her eyes sunken and her skin graying, but her cheeks were flushed and her lips rosy, her white hair combed back neatly. She was wearing a calf-length floral dress and a necklace I found rather gaudy, but it seemed to help her remember better, so I had learned to appreciate her wearing it.  
"You are leaving the day after tomorrow?" I ask.  
I know this, of course, I had been counting down the days for months, but it made good conversation. She didn`t recall that I had asked her a similar question the day before, and the day before that, so she gave me a bright smile and pinched my cheek.  
"Indeed, Darling. It will be so wonderful to get away to some warmer land and see friends," She beamed, and I didn`t have the heart to tell her it had not been long since they returned. "And you, Jessica, you must be excited for your... camping thing with your friends?"  
"It's actually a sporting game, grandma, you know, in the wizarding world where I go to school?" I gently remind her.  
Her face goes blank and her eyes glaze over, and even though I should have predicted it, I can't help but feel the sting of hurt it brings me. I know that she remembers from the way she reacts to me mentioning the wizarding world, know that she realizes that I am a witch and that for most of the year I'm far from this little town learning about spells and potions and magical creatures. Yet every time I remind her that I am not normal, she freezes and seems to be transported into another world. She's been doing it for as long as I remember. I often catch myself wondering whether she thinks of her son, who she once loved so dearly, and that the wizarding world turned him into a monster. I wonder whether she thinks that will happen to me as well, or if she sees her son as he was before the world went up in flames, smiling confidently with bright blue eyes like mine and wavy brown hair.  
"Anyways, I have to go to work. See you tonight!" I say abruptly, realizing she wasn't going to respond to my reminder.  
When I come downstairs after changing to my work uniform, grandmother is still sitting in the chair staring at a spot on the wall, weak hands balled to fists in her lip. Grandfather hasn't moved yet either, his food still untouched and his eyes still scanning the newspaper. Just a few more days, I remind myself again, locking the door behind me and stepping out into the fog. Just a few more days.

I closed the door with a soft sigh, rushing over to the window to wave my grandparents goodbye as a taxi came and picked them up. They both waved back at me with large smiles on their faces, and I felt a strange relief that I didn't have to see them again until christmas. I loved them for caring for me, and I had everything I needed and more, but I never quite stopped feeling like a guest in their home. I wasn't sure why, as I had lived here since I was a child and my room had my things in it and the hallways my pictures, but it always felt like visiting my grandparents. Except that it was an everlasting visit, until I got an acceptance letter to Hogwarts at least. There was not a trace of my parents here, not a single photo or belonging, and the names weren't allowed to be spoken within these walls. I wasn't sure whether I found that freeing or restricting. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to take a few deep breaths to push the images rushing through my mind away, but they persist. A fluttering from upstairs disturbs me from my thoughts, and it takes me about two seconds to sprint up the steps and fling the door to my room open. My owl, Boo, hooted happily from where she was perched on a lamp, ruffling her black feathers. I stroke her lovingly and untie the letter she was carrying, unrolling it to find familiar handwriting greeting me.

Dear Jess,

I hope this letter finds you well. I miss you so, and I cannot wait to see you again. Amy`s parents just dropped her off, and we`ll be preparing the last few bits before we leave. We'll pick you up at the train station tomorrow at 11 am. Remember to bring something warm, and cute for the match of course. Are we thinking colors of any of the teams? Red or Green? What team are we on? Help! Anyways, has the list for books found its way to you yet? I`m so excited for transfiguration this year!

Love, 

Lyra

Ps: How about cute coordinated tops? 

I laugh and shake my head, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for my friends. We were an odd bunch that found each other during the early months of our third year, and have been tight-knit since. Lyra was clever, not quite like Hermione Granger but close, and worked her ass off to get what she wanted. She did her house, Ravenclaw, justice, and was a reliable study buddy with a sense of humor. Amy was impossibly sweet and charming, a hufflepuff through and through, and was genuinely the nicest person I had ever met. Lyra wasn't much into quidditch, nor was I for that matter, but Amy was a fan, so we had been planning this for months. I make a mental note to write Joe about Amy`s outfit panic, knowing he`d both hate and love me for it. He hated missing the Quidditch World Cup, especially when it was because he was stuck in his hometown in Ireland with his extended family, but he`d appreciate frequent updates. I almost feel sorry for him not attending, but I'm glad they invited me. I don't quite know where I fit in with them or what part I play, but as I toss my stained barista clothes in the wash and pack the last few things for my outing, I'm grateful they thought I deserved a spot in their group. Without them, Hogwarts would have been a lonely experience.


	2. Chapter 2

I`m surrounded by a cloud of pink as Amy throws herself around my neck the moment I step off the train, her body knocking into mine.  
"Jesss!" She squeals, and I let out a choked laughter. "We're going to the world cup!"  
"I know, I know," I chuckle casually, but there are butterflies in my stomach as I speak.  
Lyra steps forth, gently tugging Amy away from me before giving me a quick hug. She's grinning from ear-to-ear, her brown eyes sparkling as she meets my gaze, her skin warm and sun-kissed. She had dyed the front pieces of her hair green, the curls framing her face, and I wonder whether she realizes she could look like she belonged in my house. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a grey hoodie, contrasting strongly with Amy, who had seen this as yet another occasion to wear her favorite color; yellow. The sundress she had chosen was almost floor-length and did look adorable on her, but I was hoping they would both be in whatever they were wearing for their departure. It seemed as if they were looking to me for a decision on that, but I wasn't certain what kind of vibe we were going for. I beamed back at them as Amy threw an arm over my shoulder and then over Lyra`s, the two of them eagerly sharing predictions about the game on the walk to Lyra`s house. She throws the door open for us and shouts an hello to her parents, who wave at us from the garden with big grins on their faces. They have always friendly towards me and welcomed me into their home whenever I was desperate to have my friend by my side, and never questioned how long I stayed. They would kiss my forehead and send freshly baked goods with me whenever my grandparents realized I was missing and came to collect me, and I found myself wishing things were different for me. They weren't, though, and I had come to accept it, instead treasuring the times spent in this home. Amy`s parents wouldn't have me over, with my parents being who they were, and I don't think they liked that she hung out with me. She didn't talk about it much though, and brushed it off whenever I brought it up, but I suspected they didn`t know that we were still best friends.  
"Jess," Amy said gently, pausing at the top of the staircase and looking back at me with raised brows.  
I put on a smile and hurry after the girls, throwing myself down on Lyra`s made bed as Amy goes through my suitcase. I hadn't bothered folding them, knowing that something like this was going to happen, and watched as Amy pulled out different items and put them out on the floor.  
"I was thinking of wearing those light-wash ripped jeans as my travel outfit, with a cute top, and a sweater for when it gets cold," I mutter, smiling as Amy found the pieces I had mentioned and laid them aside.  
"And for the actual match? Who are we even supporting?" Lyra asked, pushing my legs aside so she could sit.  
I shrug, and it doesn't take long for Amy to leap up. She waved her arms around, a large grin on her face, hair in wild curls around her face.  
"We support Ireland of course, is that even a question??" She exclaimed, staring at Lyra in actual disbelief.  
"Viktor Krum is kinda hot though," I say, partly because it`s true and partly because I know it will piss Amy off.  
As expected, Amy lets out a dramatic gasps as she turns on me, pointing a steady finger towards me.  
"We do NOT support a team because one of the members is "hot", honestly," She replies, shaking her head.  
I laugh and push myself up on my elbows.  
"Okay, okay, I was just saying he's hot...," I poke my tongue out at her. "But I do actually agree with supporting the Irish, so it's only natural we go green right?"  
Amy nods solemnly, pulling open her bag and turning it upside down so the contents spilled out.  
"I knew you were going to agree, so I have already made our pompoms,"  
Her smile was so bright I couldn't help but share her excitement, somehow agreeing to carry them around as Lyra`s parents took us to the portkey, for the sole purpose of "showing our support". While I wasn't much into quidditch, the grin on my face was broad and genuine, and I couldn't help but skip along with my friends, just happy to be taking part in this with them. As we joined hands and stepped towards the innocent looking bucket meant to transport us miles away to our destination, I cling on to the excitement and joy I feel; allow it to fuel me. It had been a long summer and a demanding year before that, but this one would be better. I would be better. Happier, brighter, braver. I close my eyes as my hand touches the cool metal and I feel the magic rush through me, that horrible feeling of being grabbed and pulled through time and space following next. I hold my breath as I try to ignore the nausea and find back to that bright happy feeling, holding onto it with all my might.

There was chaos all around me, and I clung on to Lyra`s arm as she pulled me towards the massive campsite laying in front of them. I had thought the road here was crowded, people coming in with portkeys from all around, chatting loudly and shouting as they saw acquaintances, but that was nothing compared to what I was looking at now. There were tents everywhere, placed in somewhat structured rows with pathways running through the camp, some large and others small, their fabrics in all kinds of bright and muted colors. There was a wall of sound that we crossed into as we approached the tent Lyra had prepared for us, the shouts and laughter and voices multiplying and growing louder. There were people literally everywhere, bumping into us, pulling us along with a stream and others accidentally trying to push us out of it. I tightened my grip on Lyra and on Amy, who was getting caught up by people she knew and kept coming to a halt, letting out a sigh of relief as we stepped into one of the small tents. It took me a minute to realize that it looked entirely different than I had expected before stepping in, the impressions having to settle first before I could take it all in. The tent was no longer just a small traditional tent, not on the inside at least. While the walls were still a navy fabric, it had expanded to about triple it`s size and roomed three cozy sleeping spaces, a camping stove and what resembled a living room with blankets and pillows. It was simple, but oddly homey, and it brought a smile to my face.  
"When you said we were camping, I wasn't expecting this. This isn't how we camp in the muggle world at least," I point out, shaking my head and setting my suitcase down next to one of the sleeping bags.  
To demonstrate my point I stretch out my arms and spin in circles, earning a giggle from Amy as she jumped up on the little table and struck a pose.  
"This is gonna be so much fun! I've seriously missed you guys so much, and this is gonna be awesome," She squealed.  
“Shall we go scope out the scene and see who's here?” Lyra suggested, interrupting Amy`s excitement. “I bet there are plenty of people we know around, so it might be fun to say hello before we get too comfortable here,”  
I nod along to the suggestion, but fail to muster the same eagerness they`re expressing. As we step out into the tent and I feel Amy's hand slip into mine, I try to remind myself that this matters to them and that it's the reason why I`m doing it, but it does little to settle the anxiety in the pit of my stomach. We get swallowed up by people as we trail along the path and soon I'm drowning in hello`s and catch-up chatter, and I can no longer determine what comes in our direction and what doesn`t. It's like there is a wall around me, one that sound cannot penetrate, and while it feels restricting and too small for me to breathe comfortably, there's safety in it too. I feel Amy's touch leave my skin and I push down the urge to reach for her again, instead following her bright pink hair and using it to guide me through the ground. I breath through gritted teeth and remind myself that all these people do not see me, they do not care about my existence, and they do not know who I am. They don`t recognize me, don`t realize who my parents are, who that makes me. I`m invisible, simply trailing along with my friends, on the outside looking in. I repeat it to myself again and again as my heart pounds in my chest and my breathing becomes ragged, repeat it so many times the sentences automatically form in my mind, yet I fail to convince myself.


	3. Chapter 3

Something was different when I woke up the following morning, and while it was only 8 am, the atmosphere had changed. The day before it had been full of excitement and light-heartedness, and while the excitement had been there, it could not compare to today. I crawl out of my sleeping bag and quickly comb through my hair so my blond locks fall in golden waves down my back, but I don't bother changing out of my pajamas before stepping out of the tent. I don`t know why I thought I would be the only one awake this early, because I was quickly proven wrong. Those who did not have sound-proof tents generated a lot of noise, snoring and talking and laughter spreading through the campsite, and people were walking back and forth; already up and going about their days. I wasn't the only one still in my pajamas, I noticed. There were families wearing matching pajamas while enjoying their breakfast in the fog that had settled over the camp, a group of teens around my age wandering around looking like they had just woken up. Despite most of them looking somewhat groggy, there was a charged anticipation in the air that I suspected would only grow as the day went on. I smile to myself as I cross the path and try to spot the stadium in the distance, barely skimming the massive construction as it lay in morning fog.  
“It's pretty crazy, isn't it? To have all this set up for just one evening of Quidditch. Crazy, yet amazing,” A voice tore me away from my thoughts.  
I startle and my gaze hurries to discover the source, only to find that the voice was in fact speaking to me. I cover up my frown and will my face into a neutral expression, gazing up at the intruder. He was almost a head taller than I was, his hair combed neatly backwards, the color a gentle brown with hints of blond. He had almond-shaped brown eyes that seemed awfully kind, and a pale complexion. He had prominent features and was rather handsome, I thought, and I could only assume I wasn't the only one with such opinions. I`d seen him before and my memory was desperate to come up with his name, but fell short.  
“Do I know you?” I ask coldly before I can stop myself.  
He barely raises his eyebrow at my tone, but recovers quickly, remaining in his casual stance with his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.  
“Hm, I guess not. Cedric Diggory, hufflepuff,” He says nonchalantly. “You`re friends with that Amy girl, right?”  
I nod.  
“As I thought. I`m a year above you, I play quidditch with Amy,” He said as if I should already possess this information.  
I put a fixed smile on my face, shrugging.  
“Ah, the famous seeker,” I note.  
He laughs, and to my surprise I can't tell whether it is genuine or feigned. There is some sort of tension in his expression that I can't quite put my finger on, yet an easy casualness that seems to come natural to him.  
“I suppose so, yes,” He grins at me. “Anyways, I have to run,”  
He has turned away from me before he finishes speaking, and ends the conversation with a wave of his hand. He leaves me behind with a frown, and I cannot figure out why he paused to speak to me merely to point out he played quidditch with my friend, and that he was the seeker? Was he that lonely this early in the morning to approach a stranger? And why did he recognize me as her friend of all people? I shake my head and push the thoughts out of my mind, deciding to return to our tent and see if Amy and Lyra were ready for the World Cup.

I feel a little silly standing before the mirror spinning circles for my friends, dressed in a green top and a jacket in the same color with a white stripe running down the arms. The black jeans mute it all down a bit, and I had drawn the line at a leprechaun hat, but I still felt… loud. On the upside, Lyra and Amy wore the exact same outfit, and we probably wouldn't stand out in the crowd as everyone else would have similar ideas. The pom poms were a lot, but I honestly thought they were fun. They kept my hands occupied as we approached the stadium in long lines of people, listening to others chant cheers and discuss predictions. Amy was on a rant herself, and she was happy with half-invested comments and agreements for me as I took in the huge stadium before me. It was definitely quite something, rather remarkable. There is anxiety rushing through my veins, but also anticipation and excitement, and before I know it I find myself jumping along and chanting songs with my friends. I`m so caught up in their smiles and the way my own cheeks begin to ache and the lightness in my heart that the world around me fades, and I occupy myself with shuffling to our rows and trying to catch glimpses of players. There's a sea of white and green to represent the Irish in the audience, and about an equal amount of red for the Bulgarians, and the tension in the air is incredible. Soon I find myself shouting at the top of my lungs and leaning over the railing, my eyes wide open as I the game opened with leprechauns and Veela, the players flying out on their brooms. I scream and cheer and wave my pompoms until my throat is parched, only urged on as my friends do the same, and we dance in victory as the Irish take the lead. Lyra embraces me and Amy jumps up and down in excitement, and I stand in the middle of it all and marvel at the pure joy I feel, try to take all of it in so I know it's all real, before going back to cheering with all I`ve got.

The chaos that followed after was nothing I ever could have prepared myself for. Ireland had taken the victory, which meant we and about half of the stadium were eager to celebrate, but Viktor Krumm had done something no one expected, and everyone around me was in an uproar about it. He captured the snitch and secured Ireland the win, 170 to 160, and made sure it was a world cup everyone would be speaking about for a decade. Amy, and the random group of people she had joined to celebrate, were just happy Ireland had won, and in their defense, they played excellently. Amy throws an arm around my shoulder and bumps into me, nearly stumbling over her own feet. Lyra laughed in response and grabbed Amy`s free hand, a red flush to her cheeks that I rarely got to see. I let out a giggle that I blamed on the cheap vodka I had bought at the corner store as soon as my grandparents left, and we'd done a good job downing it between the three of us in a relatively short amount of time. I had tucked it beneath my bag and it didn't fail to make a suspicious sound when glass collided with the makeup resting on the bottle, but no one around us seemed to care. I shook my pompom as a group of chanting Irish supporters passed us, and cheered on Amy as she did some sort of dancing on top of a picnic table. I cared little that my cheeks were aching from all the smiling I was doing and that despite wearing comfortable shoes my feet were aching, blisters forming at my heels. It was a cool summer night but I didn't notice it as I danced to distant music with strangers and friends alike, my hands up in the air as I looked out over all the lights surrounding us. My gaze landed on someone approaching and my breath hitched in my throat, the joy and giddiness instantly fading away. I scan the group and search for a safe haven, relieved to find it as I poke Lyra`s shoulder, who turns to me with bright eyes.  
“I`ll be right back,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.  
She just nods in response and gives me a little wave as I hop off the table and push my way through the crowd to face the group approaching. I plaster on a soft smile in time for them to spot me, the guy leading taking in my appearance before giving me a grin that raises the hairs at the back of my neck. I shake it off, focusing on a casual stance despite the flush creeping up on my cheeks.  
“Flint,” I addressed him, relieved I managed to speak first.  
As I expected, he looked to be caught off guard by this move, and the guy behind did not give him the chance to recover. I had to hold back the smirk that wished to come out, trying to still my tipsy mind.  
“Smiles,” He said, his voice somewhere between cold and warm, kind and rough.  
He had a deep skin tone and short dark hair, his eyes a beautiful shade of brown, his cheekbones prominent as he gazed down at me. He was wearing a black dress shirt with matching pants, but had risen to the occasion with a green scarf that I recognized as his house scarf. I briefly wondered whether he had been rooting for the Irish all along, or if he had changed sides when the winner was announced.  
“Jessica,” I correct him. “You know me too well by now to call me by my surname,”  
“It suits you,” He shrugs. “Celebrating the win?”  
I was about to respond, but a girl with thick curly hair bounces forward, pushing Blaise aside. She was rocking full on red and gold, and I gave her an appreciative nod.  
“Drinking without us I see? Shame, you should have joined us,” Margot says, slipping her hand into Blaise`s.  
I'm surprised when he doesn't pull back, allowing myself to study them for a moment, but Blaise`s expression remains neutral as he watches me. Margot had always been kind to be, which I appreciated as she was in my year, which made her friends tolerate me. They didn't love having me around, it wasn't hard to notice, but they didn't say anything, and I felt being tolerated by Margot and her admirers offered me some kind of protection. The same with Blaise, who had nothing against me, and despite his quiet distance wasn't opposed to holding an occasional conversation with me.  
“We`ll have to catch up another time,” I say, shrugging nonchalantly. “I call firewhisky,”  
Margot smirks, bumping into Blaise, who has the decency not to look like he wished to push her away. I raise my eyebrow at him, but he ignores it.  
“Defo! Anyways, we better go. We have some celebrating to do as well. See you around Jessica,” Margot says, pushing past me.   
Flint steps past me without casting me a second glans, and his friends trail after. One lingers before me for a moment, and I frown as Draco gives me a strange look. I was about to say something, desperate to break the silence, but he gave a soft shake of his head. I close my mouth again, uncertain whether it was at me and my behavior, or his general disapprovement of me, his grey eyes ice cold as they stared into mine.  
“Watch your back tonight, Smiles,” He says, then he melts into the crowd.  
He leaves me pinned to the ground, my mind trying to process his words in it`s haze.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco`s words linger at the back of my mind throughout the evening, but they become harder to remember even as the alcohol wears off and the conversations become more sparse. I don't know where we are anymore, as we've stumbled off to somewhere lively and loud, and I`m too happy to remember I hate just that. I'm dancing to music and laughing, speaking to strangers as I only did when either drunk or extremely happy. Amy`s growing tired, her eyelids heavy and her skin pale, but she trudges on, held up with the support of a boy she met an hour ago. She's smiling though, and I'm glad she's enjoying herself. Lyra is without a doubt drunk and has teamed up with some of her ravenclaw friends, but they say nothing when she drags me along, and for that I'm grateful. I stand back and observe them for a moment, a warmth spreading throughout me. There is shouting in the distance, screams loud enough to be heard over all the other noise, and I wonder how long the celebration will be going on for. It's getting late, and the shouting seems to be getting louder, closer maybe, and people are shifting around me. Something, someone, bumps into my shoulder and I blink, shaking off the growing weariness and notice that people are moving and that the shouts and screams are not far off now. I frown and turn in the direction of the commotion, seeing figures in black and green, wondering how everyone still kept the celebration going at this level this late. There were many of them, too many for me to count in my current state, but a handful split off and approached us. It was only then that I noticed people around me weren't just moving, they were running. Pushing through the crowd, dropping glass bottles, some crawling out of their tents in pajamas, all running. I frown and look for Lyra, but I cannot see her in the crowd. Amy`s pink hair is visible from where I am, but her arms are still around the boy, their backs turned towards me, and he's dragging her away from me. I can't explain the panic that's rising, but seeing her being pulled away from me awakes something within me, and when I can no longer see her, I don't have the self control not to freak out. There's a wall of people ahead of me, and they`re not watching where they're going, pushing and pulling me in different directions, and the shapes in black and green are approaching me from behind. I straighten up and take a closer look at them, and my heart stops for a moment as I realize they aren't eager Ireland supporters. I recognize them. I know who they are, no, no I don`t, I know what they are. Death Eaters. They shouldn't be here. They can't have come here just to find me, can they? He Who Should Not be Named is gone. He isn't coming back. His Death Eaters shouldn't be here, and they can`t be after me. I do my best to rationalize, to stay calm, but I can't get my feet to move. My body refuses to cooperate as my heart races, anxiety running through my veins so fast I can`t tell whether some of it is adrenaline or just pure fear. They would not come for me at the biggest event in the wizarding world, that would be stupid. I tell myself they don`t know me, don`t care about me, that it is not me they're after. But they're walking towards me and everyone else is running and I can't move and I don't know why, and I can't breathe. I clutch my chest and stare at the masked figures approaching me, wands raised, and I cannot breathe.

Someone grabs my wrist, and I let out a high-pitched scream, my heart beating so fast I worry it might jump out of my chest. I struggle against the grip, feeling nails dig into my bare skin, but they hold on. There is a tug at my arm, then another one, and I find my feet moving.   
“Jessica! Come on, we have to go,” I blink in surprise as I hear my name,  
They wouldn't use my name, they`d use my surname. I stare up at the figure who's trying to make me come along and realize that it's not a Death Eater, but a familiar face. Cedric Diggory. I nod slowly, allowing him to pull me away from the approaching Death Eaters and into the crowd. I drown out the screams and panic around me and focus on his hand in mine, in the pressure on my arm as he tugs at it, the aching in my lungs as we weave between tents. Cedric finds someone he knows and joins them, but I don't register who it is as I follow him, his grip locked around mine, so tight it must leave bruises. We make a turn and come face to face with another group of Death Eaters, and I shriek in surprise. This catches their attention, and the one in the front turns to me. I can't see their eyes through the mask, nor read their expression, but their shoulders tense and he nudges the one next to him and that's all I need to know I`m in trouble. I know they recognize me, and I know that I must run, but there are so many people and Cedric's group is running in blind panic, and I can't go with them. I tug my arm free, barely registering the gasp of surprise from him as I back away.  
“Run!” I hiss, then turn and run the opposite direction.  
I don't know where I`m going or where I am, but I know I need to make sure my friends are safe. The Death Eaters were so close, and while I can't afford to look back and check, I know I'm being chased. I can feel their presence even though the distance between us is increasing, and I finally dare to throw a look back. Two of them had abandoned whatever they were doing and were following me in a quick jog. I curse and break out into a sprint, the alcohol leaving my system at rapid speed as I gain clarity. I`m tired, but adrenaline drives me forth, and I run faster than I think possible, but they're gaining on me. Tents and tables and chairs and junk and people are in my way and they won't move, and it's slowing me down. I run so fast I taste blood, my feet slipping in mud. I spot trees in the distance, and somehow my mind decides that`s a good place to hide and I set my goal for the darkness there. My lungs are aching and my legs hurting, my body not used to exercise this intense, but the tiredness has gone altogether. I spot someone ahead of me, lingering at the border of the forest. Fiery red hair is the first thing I notice, on all three of them, two tall figures guiding a shorter one into the shadows. I stop in my tracks and throw a look back, shrieking as I see the Death Eaters are only getting closer. But I can't lead them to these people, can't rely on them for help, I have to hide or find my friends or disappear somehow. I make a right turn and make it to an opening before the forest, crossing the uneven terrain as my muscles scream at me. It's muddy and slippery, and there`s broken glass everywhere, and I slip and slide, my hands coming out to catch my fall. I push myself off the ground and stumble forward, my vision blurry at the sudden pain in my knee from hitting the ground. A strange force hits me and sends me flying, and I scream at the top of my lungs as I hit the ground and then roll, my arms coming up to protect my head. The breath is knocked out of me and I gasp for air, pain shooting through me. I have no time to dwell on it further, because a pair of hands grabs me and pulls me off the ground with such force I cannot hold back a yelp of surprise. Gloved hands, I realize, cool and rough against the bare skin of my wrist, the other hand coming up to my shoulder and squeezing. My feet fight to find leverage, but I`m pushed down to my knees in an abrupt movement. Another grabs hold off my hair and tips my head back, bringing tears to my eyes. I stare right into a masked face, a wicked laughter escaping his lips.   
“Why are we chasing this girl? The others said they saw Potter, that's bound to be a bigger reward,”  
“It's the Smiles kid, don`t you recognize those beautiful brown eyes and golden locks? I think she'd like to join us just like their parents did,” The one pulling my hair said, giving a little tug to mark his point.  
I shake my head despite the pressure on it.  
“No, no, let me go,” I try weakly, but it just earns more laughter.  
“But darling, your parents were legends, they`d be so proud to know you joined them in their cause,” He said. “Come with us off free will, and we will treat you well darling,”  
I struggle against their grip, trying to push off my knees to free my legs, but they lay me down in an instant, a knee adding pressure to my back. I grunt and wiggle, but to no avail.  
“Never, let me go,” I breathe out.  
“But darling, you have big shoes to fill, and it is time,” He whispers into my ear, tears rolling down my face as he squeezes my neck until I gasp for air.  
I`ve spent my entire life hiding from them, had people place me with my grandparents to keep me safe, people who promised me evil would never find me, that they didn't know of me. That I was just like anyone else, that they would never come for me. They were wrong. The Death Eaters had found me, and it looked as if I were destined to follow in my parents' footsteps.


	5. Chapter 5

I try to struggle against their grip, but they're strong enough to pull me to my knees and drag me along with them as they begin moving towards the tents, away from the forest I had thought would be my savior. I wish I could see the faces of my capturers, know their identity, wish I could muster the bravery to talk my way out of this, but my arms were hurting as they dragged me and my knees scraped against the ground, blood running down them. I was petrified by fear, my heart pounding faster and faster and my breathing coming out ragged.  
“I-I`m not my parents,” I manage to choke out, but I don't think they hear me over the screaming in the distance, or maybe they just don`t care.  
Maybe they don't care if I join them and live up to the legends my parents were. Maybe there's just a pretty prize on my head for them to collect. That had to be good, right? My vision goes black as they jerk my arm, but I can barely make out a group of Death Eaters running into the trees further away, with such speed that it looks like they're on a wild chase. I frown, allowing my mind to wonder what is happening, but in my distraction I`m hoisted to my feet and thrown over a shoulder. I shriek and kick and punch around me, but collide with nothing but air. Suddenly there is a sharp jab in my stomach and my hands come out to catch my fall and I yelp as my skin scrapes against rock and mud. I see a glimpse of bright red before me, just out of reach, and I blink in confusion. I can hear the Death Eaters behind me, but they`re further back than I would have expected, and I assume something must have caused them to drop me. I push myself up to my knees and take a deep breath, willing my adrenaline to kick in again so the damned pain can fade, but everything hurts. My ribs; where a shoulder had pushed into them, my shoulders and arms, my hands, my knees, my head… I take another breath and suddenly become aware of the fact that someone, the someone who had been standing a distance away from me, was shouting at me. I desperately try to focus my gaze and get my vision to clear, and see a boy who is looking back at me with sheer determination in his eyes. His hair is a fiery red, his pale skin illuminated by the flashes of light, a wand held firmly in his hand.  
“You have to get up,” He said, his gaze flicking between me and his opponents. “Now!”   
That's all it takes for me to jump up to my feet and forget the pain and weariness I was feeling, and I stumble towards him, feeling for my wand. There is a voice at the back of my mind telling me I shouldn't trust a stranger, but right now the choice was between him and two Death Eaters, and he was winning by a mile. Once I come within reach he grabs hold of my hand and I lock my fingers around his, noticing the warmth of his skin and his firm yet gentle grip. He starts backing away and then turns to run, and I dare throw a look over my shoulder. I see that the Death Eaters are distracted, their attention only half on us as we leave them behind. I can't understand their sudden loss of interest until I see that their eyes are locked on the sky above, both of them frozen to the spot. Before I can see what has distracted them and saved me, I`m brought back to my current flight as someone gentle tugs on my arm.  
“Over here,” The guy says to me, giving me a sideways glance.  
I follow him blindly, barely registering where I place my feet as I try to keep up with his rapid pace, but he is a head taller than me and his long legs give him an advantage. He never let`s go, though, only tightening his grip when he leaps over branches and rocks, until eventually he comes to an abrupt halt.  
“I think we`ve lost them for now, but we have to get out of here,” He says, turning to me, holding up my arm.  
I just gaze up at him, unable to say anything, my throat tights and my chest heaving as I desperately try to get enough air. He looks me over, his brows furrowing.   
“You okay?” He asks me, his voice deep yet soft despite his panting.  
I nod, even though I`m not, because it's the only thing I'm capable of right now. His expression remains skeptical despite my reassurance, but he says nothing and gestures to something behind him. There are two people watching us, I realize, and I pull my hand out of his grip and take a step back. The guy steps forward, and I have to do a double take between him and the one who led me to safety. They look the exact same. Both impossibly tall from where I was standing, with half-long messy ginger hair and bright brown eyes. They were even dressed the same. The girl lingered in the background, but her hair was a similar colour and while she looked spooked, she gave me a careful smile as I stared at her. I knew who they were, I slowly realized. I had seen them before, heard of them, recognized them mainly by their red hair. Weasleys. They too went to Hogwarts, and the twins were quite well known too. I couldn't trust them, not entirely, but I was safer here with them than out there on my own. Besides, they didn't know who my parents were, probably didn't know I was, and I intended to keep it that way. The other twin stepped forward and patted his brothers back.  
“You`re frightening her, Georgie,” He says, easing a confident grin on his face.  
The one named George turns to him with a raised eyebrow, but I can see the smile hidden there.  
“As opposed to the Death Eaters about to kill her, you mean?” He responds.  
Despite trying to hold it back a chuckle slips out from between my lips, and I have to cover it up with a cough.  
“You here with anyone?” George asks.  
I nod slowly.  
“My friends. I got separated from them though,” I manage to choke out, but I do not have the energy to be embarrassed about my voice.  
He hums thoughtfully.  
“Okay, I see. We`ll get you out, so stay close and quiet, and you`ll be okay,” He decides.  
I see the skeptical glance from his brother, but can't get myself to let it hurt me. I just want to get far, far away from here, from Death Eaters and the memory of my parents and the hurt they left behind.

The screaming and shouting had faded into the background, or maybe they had disappeared all together, I couldn't tell. I had lost track of time as I trudged through the woods, occasionally being pushed down to the ground until someone urged me to stand up again. I just walked, my mind a complete haze and my vision blurry. My legs felt numb and my hands were trembling, but I gritted my teeth and followed the flashes of red before me.  
“Hey!” Someone said in what I wasn't sure was intended as a whisper or a shout. “Hey!”  
I startle, my heart instantly beating faster as I wonder if they've found us, found me, and I turn around to face them. I let out a sigh of relief as it`s another face I recognize; Cedric. He looks a little paler than he did when I first saw him, but otherwise he is unharmed.  
“You`re Jess, right?” He doesn't wait for me to confirm. “You left us earlier. I`m with Amy, we`re about to take a portkey to mine, come with us, she won't leave without you,”  
I frown, looking to George, who gave me a kind smile despite his tired expression.  
“We`ll find our group and get out of here, go with them and find your friend,” He says softly.  
“Okay…,” I decide, uncertain of why I'm suddenly hesitant to part with them.  
I don`t know them and should not be worried about strangers, yet a voice at the back of my mind said that danger was still out there and wished for them to be okay. One of them had stepped in to save a stranger, and then they all had led me away to safety. Maybe that was just them being gryffindors, though, and they did it more to enforce the idea of heroism than an act of kindness.  
“Stay safe,” I add, but I'm not sure they hear me as Cedric leads me away.  
I throw a look over my shoulder, but they have turned their backs against me and are jogging back into the woods. I let my eyes follow them until the trees swallow them, not quite sure what to think of the act of heroism just yet.


	6. Chapter 6

Amy`s face lights up when she sees me, tears welling up in her eyes as she hops up and down, her hand still lingering above the portkey. Relief washes over me and I close the distance between us, pulling her into a one-armed embrace, but a trace of the fear still lingers.  
“JESS!” She squeals into my ear, and pays no mind to the person shushing her. “You`re okay! Gosh, I was so worried!”  
“Me too,” I say, holding her a little tighter and closing my eyes.  
I take a deep breath and revel in having found her, convincing the voices in my mind that Lyra was with people she knew and got out safe.  
“The portkey, now!” Cedric shouts from beside me, giving me a gentle but efficient jab.  
Both Amy and I reach for it, our hands touching the cool metal of the bucket. Instantly the feeling of being grabbed behind the navel came, but this time I barely registered the discomfort. I allowed myself to float through time and space, my hand holding onto Amy`s, happy to just exist in nothingness. The landing came too soon and although it was followed by the familiar nausea, it was a relief to feel something other than panic and fear. I couldn't enjoy it for too long, though, as voices erupted around me and my fellow travelers were beginning to shuffle, bumping into me and Amy who had not landed as smoothly. I blink and look around, realizing we`re in a forest not entirely unlike the one we had just left, but there were people that were relatively calm. Parents, I realized, and people in wizarding clothes that looked formal but who I couldn't place. Cedric stands before me and reaches out his hands, and Amy and I grab one each, allowing him to pull us up.   
“With me,” He says firmly, looking around until he sees who he is looking for.  
An older man with a round face and a top hat approaches us, the bright yellow of his sweater dimmed by his brown coat, his boots only allowing him to go in a light jog. He carries a worried expression on his face, but lets out a long sigh as he embraces Cedric. He's still holding onto him as he pulls back from the hug, studying him from behind narrow glasses.  
“I`m fine dad, we made it out,” Cedric reassures him. “I brought these girls, Amy and… the other one, their parents aren't here,”   
Cedric`s father seems to notice us for the first time and steps past his son, gives us a once over, a determined expression crossing over his face. He pats his son on the back, then beckons to us.  
“Always noble, my Ced,” He hums. “You girls can come with us and we`ll take it from there. I`m Amos Diggory, and we're not far from our home. Come along now,”  
I glance at Amy, noticing how weary she looks, her face bleak and her pink hair messy in it`s bun. Her clothes were disheveled and her hand was trembling in mine. When she notices me looking she clears her throat and musters something that almost resembles a smile, quickening her pace to keep up with Cedric and his father.  
“We got separated from our friend Lyra Baker,” Amy said in a surprisingly even voice.  
Amos Diggory glanced back at her, then nodded solemnly.  
“We`ll see if we can track her down, but first we need to get home and collect our heads,” He reassures her, but I see the worry on his face, and I do not know whether it is for her or a general worry about all the events that had just taken place. Probably the latter, I rationalized. Amy squeezed my hand and I leaned into her briefly before hurrying after them too. I needed answers, I decided on what was going on and how they had recognized me. But first, safety.

I had taken a seat on a luxurious leather sofa next to Amy with a blanket around my shoulders and a steaming cup of tea in front of me, a tall lady kneeling before me and putting some sort of ointment on my wounds. Her touch is gentle and her eyes are like her sons, and it's easy to see where he's gotten his features from. She's been nothing but overbearingly kind to us since we arrived, and made me feel safe from the moment I stepped into her house. I try telling myself I can`t let my guard down that easy, but I'm exhausted, the last of the alcohol has left my blood and my body is sore and beaten up, and I no longer want to be on my guard. I want to go to sleep in a warm bed, I don't care where, and sleep for three days. Amos walks back into the living room, motioning towards Amy.  
“Your parents are picking you up in an hour,” He says to her. “And we`ve been in touch with acquaintances, your friend Miss Baker is within and unharmed. She's waiting to be collected by her parents as well,”  
I lean back into the comfortable cushions, letting out of a sigh of relief. Everyone was okay, safe.   
“Thank you, Mister Diggory, Misses Diggory,” Amy mutters.  
I reach over and squeeze her hand and she smiles tiredly at me.  
“Are you sure we can`t reach out to anyone for you, Jessica? If not parents, then grandparents?” He asks me, his gaze softening as he sees my expression.  
I shake my head again.  
“No thank you, they`re muggles and just went on holiday, and I'd hate to disturb them. They`ll be back the day after tomorrow, so I`ll be alright on my own until then, if you could just point me to a train station,” I manage to say in an even and controlled tone, feigning casualty.   
Mister Diggory frowned, then nodded slowly.  
“If you are certain. I must insist you stay with us for now then, it is nearly morning and you must be exhausted. We have a guest room,”  
I just nod, too tired to protest, and the idea of sleep does seem rather tempting right now. When I`m all patched up I sit next to Amy in silence and nibble on the food Misses Diggory has put out for us, unable to muster any more energy. Her parents come and collect her, lingering in the hallway as Amy holds on to me. She glances back at Cedric, who is watching us with a curious but worn expression, then turns her attention to me. She leans in for a hug and her breath ghosted over my ear.  
“You sure you don't wanna come with us. You can stay as long as you want, until the school year starts,” She whispers.  
I shake my head.  
“I`ll be okay, Amy. I'll write to you in a bit, okay?” I reassure her.  
When I pull back I can see she's confused, but I can't explain, not here, not with the Diggory's listening. I just want her to be safe, and her parents as well, and I can't guarantee they will be with me in their home right now. Besides, something tells me I will be safer here, in a house of wizards, one of which works in the ministry, than at Amy`s. Right now I need that safety for as long as it lasts.

Light greets me when I wake up, and I blink against the intrusion, rolling over in bed and pulling the covers tighter around me. My body feels sore and my eyes are tempted to close once again, but I rub the sleep out of them and sit up straight. A groan escapes my lips, but I push past the discomfort and kick the duvet off. I can't recall when I went to bed, but the antique clock in the corner told me it was 4pm. The room is quite small, but furnished in a luxurious way with silk and velvets, a large bookcase in the corner and a vanity by the window. There's a pile of clothes laid out for me, and I let my fingers brush against the fabric distantly, staring out of the window. It was a bleak day, the rain falling gentle, but the colors of the countryside were lush, flowers blooming in the garden. I pick up the clothes and find the bathroom, relieved to see a fresh stack of towels ready for me, jumping into the shower and washing away all the dirt and blood stuck to me. I get dressed into a knit loungewear set that`s slightly too tight around the hips, but fortunately the sweater is oversized and hides that flaw, and while it's not my style, it's undeniably comfortable. After combing through my hair with my fingers I tiptoe downstairs, greeted by the smell of roast potatoes and gravy. My stomach has the audacity to let out a loud rumble, and I remember that it's nearly a full day ago since I last ate. Misses Diggory is in the kitchen, accompanied by a house-elf, and was busying herself with about 12 pots and pans.  
“Good morning Darling,” She smiles kindly at me and hands me a steaming cup of tea. “Cedric is setting the table and tea is almost ready. You can take a seat in the meantime, if you want,”  
I nod gratefully, but instead of going on the hunt for the living room, I find Cedric in the dining room. He doesn`t notice me come in and has his back turned towards me, a stack of plates balanced on one hand. He's wearing a pair of jeans and a jumper, his hair still damp.   
“Hey,” I say weakly.  
He turns around, a grin appearing on his face, and beckons me over.  
“Jessica!” He beams. “You're alive!”  
His laughter is a little awkward as the joke doesn't quite land, but I give him the benefit of the doubt and let out a forced chuckle. He pulls out a chair for me and pours me a glass of water, and I gratefully chug it down. He takes a seat next to me and we sit in silence for a moment, listening to the clinking of his mother's cooking.  
“So…. yesterday huh,” He clears his throat, glancing at me from beneath locks of brown hair.


	7. Chapter 7

Misses Diggory did everything in her power to steer the conversation away from the events at the world cup, but since it was just the three of us it meant that the attention was directed towards me. I know she meant well, and I did my best to keep the chill out of my tone, but didn't quite succeed. She was asking me about my experience at school and the subjects I took, which were easy ones to answer, but when they turned to my hometown and my summer and family, answering became tricky. I gave vague and distant answers, and if she noticed she didn't show it, because she kept trying to get information out of me. The food was good though, and eventually Cedric took the word and talked about Quidditch all through the desert. I was happy for the save, and listened half-heartedly until the meal was done and Cedric invited me outside. We sat on the swing on the porch for what felt like hours, a plaid blanket covering us, watching the rain fall.  
“I still can't believe it happened,” Cedric eventually broke the silence.  
I glance at him and see that his knuckles have turned white as he clenches his cup, the liquid gone cold long ago. I sigh, swallowing hard as the memories from the events wash over me. The screaming, the chaos that had erupted, the sheer panic. The dark figures haunting the campsite, their cruel touch, their destruction and torturing of muggles and muggle-borns, their quest to find me. I shiver, noticing that Cedric is watching me. I will my expression to be neutral and shrug casually.  
“Nor can I, but I suppose that if they`re here to make a statement, or maybe a return, the world cup was the best place to do so. It left everyone frightened, so it was effective,” I say.  
He gives me a thoughtful expression, his lip worried between his teeth.  
“Yeah, and with all kinds of people gathered. Muggles and muggle-borns… It seems that they were the target of this riot. But it's strange they dare to come forth now, at this time, when they have nothing to stand on. Do you think they`re striving to return?” Cedric asked.  
I go quiet, focusing my gaze on the English countryside laid out before us.  
“I don`t know,” I say honestly.  
Because I really don't know, and I don't want to know either. I don't even want to think about what ifs, don`t want to begin to wonder or worry. I pray with all my might that it's just a riot, some wicked hate-act to prove that there are still loyal you-know-who supporters even though he is gone.Yet there is a gut feeling that refuses to settle with that explanation, and it frightens me. If they found me once, they`ll find me again. I will not join them. I will not, no matter what happens.

The following day Cedric and I are on our second round of Wizard's chess, and I find myself surprised by the fact that I`m enjoying his company. I had never held a conversation with him, nor had he acknowledged my existence, and all I knew about him was that he was popular, handsome and adored. And a good quidditch player, of course. Even though we had spent a fairly amount of time together, I was beginning to understand why he was so well-liked. He could come off as cocky, which I discovered when he beat me in the first round, but he made sure I wasn't left alone with my thoughts and was easy to converse with. We talked about our favorite subjects and famous pranks that had taken place while we were at Hogwarts, about which professors we adored and didn't, and he told me about quidditch and I talked about Amy and how happy she had been to make the team. I even found myself laughing at his jokes, and I was slowly beginning to worry if the events of the world cup had changed me for good. However, as the time of my departure grew closer my anxiety settled in the pit of my stomach again, and I felt myself becoming more fidgety and distant. Mister Diggory had not yet returned from work, so Misses Diggory and Cedric accompanied me to the train station. It would be a 5 hour train journey, and they'd offered to floo powder me, but I'd politely declined. I needed a bit of muggle normality, and besides, I`d do anything to put off coming home to an empty house.  
“Are you sure you do not want to stay longer, darling? We would love to have you as a guest for as long as you need,” She says, patting my cheek lightly.  
I blush at the care she is displaying, hastily shaking my head and plastering on my brightest smile. Cedric raises an eyebrow at me, but says nothing.  
“That is so kind of you to offer, but I must pack my things and prepare for the semester to start. I will be okay, thank you so much for your kindness,”   
I stiffen as she pulls me in an embrace, feeling awfully misplaced in these borrowed clothes, saying goodbye to a family I just happened to come across in an odd and disastrous turn of events. Despite my reassurance that I will be okay, she hands me a plastic bag full of containers with food, and I thank her politely. Cedric pulls me aside just as the train arrives, his hand lingering on my other arm. He grins at me, but there is a caution in his eyes I don't quite understand.  
“See you at Hogwarts, Jessica,” is all he says before pulling me into a one-armed embrace.  
He waves me off on the train and I mimic the motion before mingling with the muggles crowding the rush-hour departure. I let out a sigh of relief as I fell back into a seat and leaned my head back, thinking back on all that had happened the past days and what it all meant.

I hurry through the crowd at mid-day, muttering to myself as people bump into me in their own haste. My right arm is aching as I carry a giant bag of books, the other significantly lighter but still a burden as I haul it across the street so another row of shops. I had gotten a new cauldron, three new sets of school clothes and treated myself to a nice set of emerald green and silver pajamas, and about 10 books, give or take a few. The only thing I was missing now was quills, ink and parchment, and I was hoping to finish my shopping as quickly as possible. I knew it would be foolish to go into Diagon Alley the day before leaving for Hogwarts, but I`d picked up all the extra shifts at work I could, and today was the only option. I didn't understand everyone else who left it until the last minute though, as it seemed highly unnecessary. There were plenty of what I assumed were first or second years with their parents, as well as students in all age groups who had thought it a good idea to gather for a catch up as if they wouldn't all be hanging out from tomorrow until christmas break. It was loud and crowded and driving me insane, but I gritted my teeth and pushed my way into the stationary store, rolling my eyes at the queue there. I adjust my sundress as a gust of wind comes in as the door opens behind me, collecting the things I needed and taking them to the till. My feet were already aching from the standing around and walking I had to do, my heeled sandals probably not the best decision I had ever made, and I shifted from side to side to relieve the pressure as I waited.  
“I never caught your name, you know,” Two voices said from behind me in complete synchronization, and I startle and spin around.  
The red-haired twins are standing a small distance away from me, not in the queue but still managing to block everyone`s path, watching me intently. They both had a stupid grin on their face, their eyes shimmering in the dim lighting, towering above most others. I don`t know how I recognized the one who had come to my rescue, George, but somehow I did. I place my hand on my hip and flick my hair over my shoulder, staring them down.  
“Why would I tell you?” I say coolly.  
Neither of them looks shaken by the tone of my reply, but Fred steps forward and winks before elbowing his brother.  
“She bites, I like her,” He comments.  
I glare at him, which only makes him chuckle. George`s expression softens ever so slightly, his eyes locking with mine.   
“I thought we were getting well acquainted back there,” George shrugs. “But keep your secrets, if you wish. I`m George, and this is Fred,”  
“Weasley, but you must already know that,” Fred comments.  
I hum quietly, taking them in before turning my back to them and shuffling along the queue.  
“Jessica, if you must know,” I reply, paying for my items and brushing past them in a couple of strides, unable to keep the blush off my cheeks.


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as I step onto platform 9 ¾, I`m tackled by Amy and Lyra, who apparently have been waiting for me, their suitcases victim to the annoyance of eager students. Amy throws her hands around me and I do my best to ignore the side-ways glances of other students, patting her lightly on the back. She`s beaming at me as she takes the crate of my owl out of my hand, slipping her arm through mine, which makes it impossible to carry my suitcase.  
“Hey Jess!” Lyra exclaims, patting me on the bag before beckoning us towards the train that was quickly filling up.  
Her hair is back to its normal black without the green streaks, her curls pulled up into a topknot.   
“Hey!” I say, not quite able to match their excitement. “Where`s Joe?”   
Just as Lyra was about to answer, he came running towards us. He was easy to spot, partly because he was waving frantically, and partly because he wore a pair of bright orange pants and a jean jacket with splatters of paint in all colors on it. Amy shrieked and threw herself around him instead, and I wouldn't admit it to her, but I was glad to have my arms free to carry my things.  
“I saved you guys a seat. I've had to fight with all my might for it,” He says, suddenly catching sight of me and reaching out to pull a lock of my golden hair. “Hey hun, hey guys. CATCH UP TIME,”  
I cringe as others turn to stare at us when his voice gets high-pitched, but I feel a fondness for him nonetheless. He starts having the world's most fast-paced conversation with Amy, and they`re a fun duo to watch when they're like this, because they`re impossible to understand as a bystander. We find our compartment and load up our stuff, and I take a seat next to Lyra. The train jolts awake and begins moving, and everyone jumps up to wave goodbye to their families. I remain seated and watch them quietly, a heavy feeling settling within me. It's stored in the same place I've shoved the anxiety and worry for this school year, and I'm suddenly concerned the storage is almost full. My hands are clammy, I realize, and my chest is tight which makes breathing harder. I try to focus on the flow of air, but all I notice is that it's restricted, and then it's all I can focus on.  
“I LOVE your vibe, Jess. That dress…,” He gives me two thumbs up. “Perfect. So cute,”  
I snap out of my state almost immediately and smile gratefully at him, unclenching my hands as they come to rest in my lap. It's a mid-length floral dress in a pastel purple, and my heart is full when I realize that Joe remembers that focusing on soft colours and calming prints take the edge of my anxiety in moments like this.  
“I feel like I really had to go all out before it`s school uniform time,” I explain, relieved when Lyra and Amy sit down as well.  
Suddenly everything feels like it's as it had been the previous school year, with them thrown together against all odds. A hufflepuff, two ravenclaws and a slytherin mixed together to form the most incredible friendship. Amy, Lyra and Joe all had separate friend groups, and Amy and Joe were the only ones in the same friend group outside of ours, and I suppose I too had my own even though I didn't consider them to be close to me, but I was glad that we had become an “us”. We stuck together, and towards the end of last year I had finally felt comfortable to actively seek them out and collect our little gang despite them being with others. We were an odd bunch, but I wouldn't have traded them for anything in the world. I smile and look out of the window, watching the countryside race by, occasionally joining in on the conversation, finally feeling the butterflies in my stomach flutter. I had promised this would be a good year, so I had to make it memorable.

My excitement has officially taken over, and I had forgotten all of my worries and pondering about Death Eaters and danger when I walked into The Great Hall, filing in after dozens of other students. I adjusted my tie and combed my fingers through my hair as I looked up, the ceiling that resembled the night sky never failing to leave me in awe. I loved watching the constellations there and tracing them with my eyes, figuring out what they meant and what story was behind them.  
“See you guys later,” Lyra muttered, joining Joe over at the Ravenclaw table.  
“Later,” I muttered, passing Amy to sit with the Slytherins.  
Margot scoots aside as I arrive, and some of the girls surrounding her shoot me disapproving glances, but she murmurs a quick hey and then turns back to her conversation. I let my gaze drift through the room, lingering on a brief moment on a familiar redhead before settling on the Slytherin Quidditch team. They`re chatting loudly, unaware of my presence, but Blaise catches my gaze and winks. I can't tell whether it's aimed at me or Margot, though, so I remain expressionless as I watch him. He's talking to Draco about something, but Draco doesn't seem to be listening. I can see that he`s humming occasionally, but his eyes are hazy and there is a tension in his shoulders I haven't seen before, not like this. There's a grey hue over his skin that's partly masked by the natural highlight on his sharp cheekbones, his pale blond hair neatly combed, wearing his brand new uniform with silver accessories. On the outside he's keeping up a perfect image, but something feels off about him. I make a mental note to see if I can investigate it later, while also reminding myself it's none of my business. I have a debate with myself about this matter while the sorting ceremony takes place, which after the second year was the most boring occurrence I could imagine, not even bothering to clap when a new Slytherin joined us. I remained quiet throughout the feast and no one seemed to notice me being there, not even Margot, and I listened to them talk about their summers and the events at the world cup and parties and professors, content with being a wallflower. 

Once everyone had finished their meal and were stuffed with delicious food and desserts of all kinds, Dumbledore got to his feet and all chatter ceased immediately.  
“It is my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch cup will not take place this year,” He says.  
There's a moment of heavy silence before the great hall breaks out into gasps and whispers. My eyes land on Amy, who's having a discussion with someone who I recognize to be on the Quidditch team. She had been so excited for this season as she had trained hard over the summer and wanted to prove how good she had become. She looked appalled to have heard the news, and she wasn't the only one. Our quidditch team was booing at Dumbledore, which I thought was a brave move considering he was our principle, and Marcus Flint looked pissed.  
“This is due to an event starting in October and continuing throughout the school year. I have a great pleasure announcing that this year at Hogwarts-”  
At that exact moment there was a loud rumble of thunder and the doors of the great hall swung open, and I had to cover my mouth to prevent the startled scream from escaping. I turn to face the commotion and see that a cloaked figure had entered and was approaching the tables with heavy steps. Everyone had gone dead silent and was watching him, and I found myself leaning over the table to get a closer look at him. His face consisted entirely of scars, some long and thick, others small and narrow running like veins through his skin. One of his eyes had been replaced by a ball that looked as if it was made of classes, an electric blue color, and it was spinning wildly as he walked. He paused before Dumbledore and reached out a hand, which the scarred man shook. Dumbledore took a step forward and gestured to the man standing next to him.  
“May I introduce the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody,” Dumbledore said eagerly.


	9. Chapter 9

No one clapped when they heard the announcement except Dumbledore and Hagrid, the students and teachers sitting in a stunned silence as they looked at the new professor. Everyone around me was muttering and gossiping, and I heard Margot gasp in shock.  
“That can't possibly be our new professor, we have a reputation to uphold as a school,” Margot erupted, loud enough for most of the table to hear.  
I frowned, finding it a rather surprising choice. He looked like quite a figure, and even though appearances could deceive, he seemed as if he had been through a lot. Maybe that would make him a good teacher though, but I found myself wishing it were professor Lupin who had walked in that door instead. His departure had been a tough one to handle, as I had grown appreciative of him throughout my third year. It was he who had his doors open when I needed him most, and who encouraged me to build my friendship with my gang now, who had accepted me as who I was and assured me that slytherin`s were often not destined for evil, but greatness, and that he knew kind slytherin`s with good hearts. It had been exactly what I needed to hear back then when I feared myself and my past the most, and seeing him go felt like a loss. He was a safe space, and there were many times where I had come close to telling him everything. About my parents and their horrible acts, about the things they exposed me to before they choose evil and eventually death over me, and the constant fear of somehow becoming them. I never had, though, but I wondered whether I`d grow to trust him enough if he just had stayed. My thoughts were interrupted as Dumbledore once again spoke.  
“As I was saying,” He said, clearing his throat and smiling at the students who were no longer paying attention to him. “It is my pleasure to inform you that Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year,”  
“You`re joking,” One of the twins, Fred I realized, shouted.  
My gaze landed on him as the crowd erupted in laughter and cheering, an excitement filling up the room as everyone quickly forgot about professor Moody. Fred elbowed his brother, who grinned at him in return, and they put their heads together and started whispering until Dumbledore hushed them. He began explaining what the Triwizard Tournament entailed, and even though I didn't want to admit it, I was curious. Three schools from around Europe would compete, Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and Hogwarts, and that three champions would be selected to compete for the possibility to win a prize of a thousand galleons. I wondered what kind of competition it would be, and if it were anything I`d be good at, but the spotlight didn't seem tempting to me. Besides, Dumbledore informed us that you had to be seventeen or older to compete, which earned a lot of booing and disappointed shouts, the loudest ones coming from the Weasley Twins, Joe and Blaise. He informed us that the students from the other schools would be arriving in October, before he announced the feast to be over. It took a while before students were beginning to leave the hall, all too excited to think about going to bed yet, and it took two reminders from Dumbledore before the sound of scraping and shuffling interrupted the talking. I waited until enough people had risen and then followed them out, disappearing into the crowd of Slytherin`s as we headed to our dorm.

I wake up the following morning feeling more awake than I had the past weeks, and I sit up straight, stretching my arms above my head. I glanced around the room and discovered that two of the girls I shared a dorm with were still fast asleep, and the other was tiptoeing around as she got dressed. She briefly glanced at me and wrinkled her nose, before slipping into her uniform and disappearing in a matter of minutes. I sigh and get up, putting on my uniform as well and fastening my Slytherin tie. I step into my shoes and quickly comb through my hair before making my way to the bathroom. There are quite a few girls in there already, but they all move at a slow pace as they put on makeup and brush their teeth, more occupied by catching up than what they're doing. I do my makeup and fix my hair in a half-up, half-down do and give myself a motivational nod before heading to the great hall. The Great Hall is fairly empty, as most are still asleep or getting ready, and the only ones who made it here yet were eager first years and those who thought of morning exercise as fun. I grab myself a plate of food and sit on my own, a little distance away from the others, until students start streaming in. Most stay clear of me and gather in their usual groups, but Amy eagerly waves at me before she takes a seat, and Lyra and Joe come by to say hello. By the time Blaise, Draco and Theo make it down I'm finished eating, and I meet them on my way out.  
"Smiles," Draco says, and Blaise copies him.  
Theo just nods and brushes past me, but Blaise pauses. He winks at me.  
"Have a good day, Smiles," He says.  
I frown at his sudden friendliness, shaking my head. He had always been nice enough to me, but stopping me in front of everyone for a quick chat was out of character. I throw a look back and find Draco watching me with a curious expression, but think nothing more of it as I head off to collect my timetable. 

Starting the semester on a monday morning with ancient runes wasn't my favorite, but it was with the ravenclaws which meant I conquered our usual table in the middle and eagerly waited for Lyra and Joe to arrive. I stifled a yawn and smiled at them, ignoring the disapproving glance from my roommate who hated both me and this class. I didn't mind it much, even if I find out difficult and dry at times, it was an interesting concept. It beat the years of maths I had to take at muggle school by miles. The professor wrote the task we had to solve down and instructed us to open our books, and I busied myself with trying to decipher what the runes meant. After a while, Joe nudges me, glancing at the professor then leaning closer.  
“So, this Triwizard Tournament thing sounds crazy! I can't believe we get to meet people from other schools,” He hisses.  
I check that the professor isn't listening in on us, but he`s occupying himself with a heavy book.  
“I wonder what kind of competition it will be,” I mutter back.  
Lyra let`s out a huff as my voice is a little too loud, but I can tell by the smile creeping on her face that she's not actually annoyed at us. Besides, she can't resist joining in the conversation.  
“We should be finishing this,” She hissed, but abandoned her work anyways. “Historically, it is a competition based on tasks between three competitors,”  
I glance over at Joe's side of the table, and see that he's already finished deciphering the runes. I frown as I`ve only gotten halfway through mine, but decide I have enough time to finish them.  
“What kind of tasks?” I ask.  
Lyra shifts to the very edge of her seat, her dark eyes lighting up.  
“Dangerous ones, according to the tales. Competitors would often die, and therefore the Triwizard Tournament came to an end,” Lyra replied.  
“Dangerous? Like dragons??” Joe beamed.  
Lyra hushed him.  
“Among others, yes, The tasks would lead in so much injury and death it was cancelled. After that the schools tried to revive it, but to no avail. Until now, which is so exciting! I wonder what rules they have in place to ensure everyone's safety,” She sounds very eager about this, and Joe rolls his eyes.  
“As if that's the most exciting thing about this. I hope there will be dragons. I so wish I could enter, I can't believe I`m missing out on a chance like this,” He sighs dramatically, ruffling his ginger hair.  
“You'd be great, Joe,” I say. “Do we know who's entering from Hogwarts?”  
“I haven't really seen or spoken to anyone old enough yet, except a brief encounter with my Quidditch captain. She was talking about entering. Honestly, she`d be awesome,”  
I nod thoughtfully, remembering how the entire hall had been buzzing with energy when it was announced, and how the Weasley twins had looked awfully mischievous when they heard the news they weren't old enough. I wonder what they were up to, and if anyone I knew would become a competitor.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading so far! I hope you`re all enjoying the story. I`m writing regularly so I can add new chapters often. Feel free to let me know if you have any ideas or any cute moments with Jessica and George you would like to see :) 
> 
> Happy Reading!

Two days later I meet Amy in the hallway after charms, so we can walk to Defense Against the Dark Arts together. We link arms and immediately the Slytherin`s headed the same way hurry to create a larger distance between us, some sending me dirty looks. My roommate didn't disappoint with the nasty glances, and when she sent one my way then turned to whisper something to the others, it was obvious they were talking about me. I try to play it off as Amy watches me wearily by rolling my eyes, but the giggling echoes in my mind even after the girls are gonna.  
“She really doesn't like you, does she?” Amy sighs, glaring daggers at my roommate. “Isn't she the girl dating Marcus Flint?”   
I shrug, because honestly keeping track of Marcus`s dating life was hard. He was probably the most popular boy in 7th year, in Slytherin anyways, considering he was the Quidditch Captain. He usually dated the most popular girls, and bragged about it a lot, but it was hard to keep track of.  
“I've never actually talked to her. I think her name is Jane, but I can't be certain,” I shrug, giving her arm a light tug as we swerve past a group of gryffindors. “So, have you heard anything about this professor Moody?”   
Amy gasps and turns to me with wide-eyes, a hint of colour appearing on her cheeks.  
“Yes! I totally forgot to tell you! I talked to Neville because I found him sitting in the common room and he was like totally spooked out and acting weirder than usual, so I was wondering right. Turns out he just had DADA and apparently they did some wild stuff. He wouldn't say what, because he kept spacing out, but like, it must be like, WILD. Oh, that reminds me, I need to check up on him. Whatever it was it seemed to have impacted him a lot. I hope he's okay,” She rambled.  
I hold up my finger and she hushes, but only temporarily, her pace increasing to an almost jog. The sound of “wild” stuff that left someone, even if that someone was Neville Longbottom, spaced out did not seem tempting to me, but it was obvious Amy didn't agree. The curriculum couldn't be that wild though, as there were certainly guidelines to follow. I mean, I knew he wouldn't live up to Professor Lupin, but it couldn't be worse than Professor Lockhart.   
“Ugh, I hope we`re not practicing some crazy spells on each other. I`m not up for flying across the room,” I say, earning a giggle from Amy.  
“I hope it's just that,” She sticks her tongue out at me then tugs me through the open doors and into the classroom, making a dive for the seats we had claimed as ours last year. The class quickly filled up and we all put out our books and parchment.  
“Put those away, you won't be needing them,” A voice barked from behind me.  
Amy and I both startle and turn around, seeing that Professor Moody was making his way past the rows of seats towards the front. He had a heavy limp, and I noticed that one of his legs had been replaced by a wooden one. He turns to face us once he's at the front and everyone is staring at him with half anticipation and half worry. Once he's finished going through the list and calling out our names, he crosses his arms and pins us with a stern gaze.  
“So, curses. While counter-curses are useful, and technically you aren't supposed to see what the illegal Dark Curses look like. However, I`d say the sooner you are prepared the better, and you need to be ready,” He grunts. “Can any of you tell me which curses are most heavily punished by the wizarding law?”  
A silence lingers in the room, before a few hands are carefully raised up in the air. Amy and I sit still, giving each other sideways glances. His glass eye is spinning wildly, and to me it looks like it`s surveying the room; studying every single person in it, and when it lands on me it feels like he can see straight through my demeanor.  
“Miss Smiles,” He said, his voice loud enough to startle those sitting at the front, and me.  
I clench my fits in my lap and look down at the table, giving a small shake of my head. I can feel the colour rise to my cheeks, my heartbeat increasing. I force my gaze to look up and meet his, the glass eye of his still fixed on me. I suppress a shudder.  
“Can you name any, or all, of the illegal dark curses?” He asks steadily.  
My breath hitches in my throat and I glance at the hands still up in the air to see if he would get the hint, but his focus didn't waver. Amy nudges me lightly and I scoff, trying to recollect my racing thoughts.   
“I-I d-don`t know,” I stutter, nervously glancing around the classroom.  
Everyone had turned to look at me, I noticed, and there`s whispering surrounding me that I failed to block out despite not knowing what they're saying.  
“Are you certain, Miss Smiles?” He pushes on.  
There`s such confidence in his voice that the panic within me is rising quickly despite my efforts to keep it under control. I feel the trembling in my legs first, I always do, then the lightheadedness next. My hands are clammy and my vision goes blurry, everything around me seemingly moving at a different speed, but I regain enough control to nod at Professor Moody. My fingers fidget with the hem of my skirt, but it's not enough for me to calm down; the fabric familiar but not comforting, the black doing nothing to earn my focus. I have to get out of here, now.

I barely register a student naming all three of them, the voice but an echo in my mind. The imperius Curse, the cruciatus curse and the killing curse. I watch professor Moody fetch a jar and pull out a spider that he sets on the desk. He points his wand at it and the entire class seems to tense up, before he speaks a spell loud and clear.  
“Imperio!” The class gasps as he says the curse.  
Amy stares at him with wide eyes until one of the boys behind us tap her shoulder and they start whispering. All I can do is stare as he makes the spider turn in circles on the desk, then summons it to it`s hand. It almost seems harmless, this unforgivable curse, when performed on a spider. It`s natural behavior it's been asked to do, and I imagine it doesn't have much of a free will of the sort humans, or even other animals, have. But I remember the curse. I shouldn't, I shouldn't remember, but I do. I was so young when it happened, not even a child just yet, but I can recall the movements the spider makes. The walking in circles, the movements that look so natural yet aren`t. The spider jumps in Professor Moody`s hand, and my mind locks on a row of memories. I`m no longer aware of the space around me, can`t hear the others, don't register what we`re supposed to be learning. It's like I`m back there again, sitting on the floor of our home with it`s burgundy carpeting and dark walls, playing with a doll. My parents were there, and I don`t know whether it was that day or that entire week, but there were people walking in and out constantly. I can`t remember their faces, but I recalled the persistent ringing of the bell that hung above the door; until my mother ripped it down and smashed it. It's so hazy now, and maybe the memories should have been buried long ago because I should not remember, but I can see my brother moving back and forth. He's tall and his hair is the same golden blond as mine is, but his is curly, and his eyes are grey. They had once been filled with a love for me, his expression so soft and gentle, but when he looked at me then his gaze was distant and he didn't seem to know who I was. He`d been like that a lot and it had scared me, but then there would be times where he was back to normal and he would sit by my bed at night and tell me stories and stroke my hair until I couldn't hear the voices of strangers in the living room below. He`d been particularly strange that day, mingling with the adults and carrying objects in and out, ignoring my presence. My mind skipped to the next memory, and while I knew I was losing control over them, there was something in me that didn't want to stop them. It was strangely comforting to exist in these memories, dark and painful as they were, and I needed to hold on to them for just a bit longer.


	11. Chapter 11

I knew I'd lost control over my mind now that memories were appearing at rapid speed, but there was a part of me that managed to be aware of how I was actively choosing not to stop the train of them. I was around the same age in this memory, maybe a year or two older, wearing a fluffy one-piece with bunny ears, and I had my arms around my brother's neck. The background was blurry as I can't recall where we were, but I know it was cold and that the wind was harsh, and that my brother had wrapped his coat around me as he trudged on through the woods. He had to be around 13 or 14 at this point as his shoulder`s were broader and his chest firm, but he still smelled of mint and the sea, and I found comfort in that. I was crying; I shouldn't have been crying, and I have an urge to go back in time to stop the tears and silence myself, because maybe it would have changed the outcome. Maybe he would have lived if only I had been better. But I was so young and scared that I couldn't have known what I did now. He held me tighter and tighter as dusk approached, and I recognized fear in his face, but also a determination I hadn't seen before. I was cold and hungry, and I truly wish I could stop the cries that had come out of my mouth, that I could have understood that we were running away from something bad and towards something hopefully better. But I didn't. His fingers were frostbitten as he held me through the night, and while I didn't know how long it was until we were found, I remember it happening. The memory must have been from after mother died, a few years after You-Know-Who disappeared, because she wasn't there. Father was, along with some of his friends, still dressed in dark cloaks and hoods, circling around us; trapping us. Liam, my brother, set me down in the snow, he shouldn't have, they wouldn't have hurt him if he held me, and there was a flash of green. He fell to the ground before me, his eyes still open, staring straight into mine. I couldn't describe that expression to anyone now, but I can envision it precisely. Him lying there with damp hair and pale skin, one hand reached out for me and the other clutching his wand, the horror written on his face. He was but a child, and he had given his life in a desperate attempt to protect me. 

As soon as class was dismissed, I sprinted out of the classroom. I left a confused Amy behind and dodged the students crowding the hallways, my mind set on reaching our common room before the tears spilled. I ran down the stairs and somehow didn't lose my balance in my impractical running shoes, but was caught on the next set as the stairs decided now was a good time to move. With a groan of frustration I once again broke out into a sprint when the stair connected to the floor, trying not to let the confusion of where I was get to me. Suddenly I collided with sheer mass and I let out a gasp as the air was knocked out of me and I was pushed backwards, my hands coming out to catch my fall. I blink and stare up at the person blocking my path, no doubt looking quite dumbfounded.  
“We`ve got to stop meeting like this,” A voice said.  
It took a moment for me to notice the outreached hand hovering before me. Hesitantly I take it, allowing him to pull me up. George Weasley. Next to Fred Weasley, of course, and a guy I didn't know the name of but saw hanging around with them a lot. Not that I had noticed that.  
“It almost seems like she's completely FALLING for you, Georgie,” Fred commented, winking at me.  
If it wasn't such an obnoxious comment, I`d have laughed. Or maybe if I wasn't so freaked out by myself and my own mind, I`d have laughed.  
“You`re blocking the hallway,” I just said lamely.   
My observation was right, though, as they had been taking up the space available, other students having to form narrow rows to get past them. Fred chuckled and George smiled, and the other one held out his hand. I stare at it in confusion, raising my eyebrow, but I shake it anyways. His grip is firm where mine isn't, and there is a skepticism hidden in his smile.  
“Lee Jordan,” He says proudly.  
I say nothing in return.  
“Here, let me help you with that love,” George stepped forward, kneeling down before me.  
I hadn't even noticed that the contents of my bag had exploded and there was stuff everywhere. Rolls of parchment, homework, quills, books, makeup… Great. Just great.  
George was collecting all of it in messy piles, but I did not have the energy to be annoyed at him for touching my stuff. I kneel down too, stuffing the things back into my bag. He hands me the last stray quill and gives me a thoughtful smile, probably seeing my distressed expression.  
“Thanks,” I mutter.  
“You o-,” He begins, but I stand abruptly.  
He rises with me, but before he can finish his sentence Fred interrupts me.  
“If you want, you can bump into me next time,” He grins broadly.  
While I know he is joking, I glare daggers at him, not giving him the satisfaction. I roll my eyes for good measure and brush past them.  
“See you around,” One of them calls after me, but with my back turned to them, I can`t tell whether it's Fred or George.  
I have to stop running into them, both literally and figuratively. It's getting awfully bothersome. Besides, most of my housemates despite me enough already for being me AND for having the friends I chose to have. Being associated with the Weasley`s certainly wasn't going to sit well with them, and I could not handle one more reason to be despised. I was perfectly happy being invisible, and I had to keep it that way.

It's two AM on my third week at Hogwarts, and I'm lying awake wondering how it all went downhill so fast. I had promised myself I would be better and happier, less… me, but that wasn't going to plan. I sigh as I toss and turn, unable to fall asleep. My mind kept being flooded with memories whenever I closed my eyes, and sleeping meant reliving them, and while I knew I couldn't avoid it, I wished to postpone it as long as possible. The day before I had grown desperate enough to consider going to Madam Pomfrey and ask for a sleeping draught, but the thought of the lecture she would give me and the questions she would ask wasn't tempting. I drift off to sleep eventually, dreaming of flashing green lights and the casting of unforgivable curses, of hooded figures and fear. I wake up in a cold sweat, glad that it's friday and it`s my last day of classes before the weekend. I have Care of Magical Creatures first thing, which I quite enjoy, although it`s with the Gryffindors and I don't really know anyone. At least it gives me space to work, meaning I`m effective and skillful at it. It`s followed by herbology with the hufflepuffs and then potions with Lyra and Joe. Then I have time off to catch up on homework until Astronomy, which is my favorite subject, and I let that fuel me throughout the day. Despite being tired my mood lifts as we`re working with Flobberworms, which were the dullest creatures on the planet, but I actually found the tasks quite relaxing. Watch them, feed them, take notes… It was rather calming. Amy and I spent Herbology class chatting while we were doing our work, and I instantly feel better. By the end of the double class I`m smiling and laughing, linking my arm with Amy`s as we head to lunch. She's telling me about her almost girlfriend, who`s replaced her almost boyfriend because apparently he was dull and rude, and she's so passionate that I can`t but feel happy on her behalf. We`re discussing potential cute dates when we meet up with Lyra and Joe, and they`re eager to pitch in as we dig into the food. I'm relieved that everything is back to normal, and while I know I need to sort my mind out before I lose control completely, I'm glad I don't have to think about it right now. I`ll handle it, I promise myself, but right now I need to be present with my friends.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I`m just checking in quickly to thank you all for reading so far! I`m honestly so surprised to see my little fun side project is being read, and I`m so grateful to all of you. 
> 
> I did change around some character ages so they fit into my plot, but only side characters.
> 
> This is a slow-burn, and I know you`re probably all eager to get to the romance (trust me, I am too!), and it`s coming, I promise. I just value the plot and build-up as well, and I hope you enjoy those parts. Anyways, I have some exciting twists and turns and some good old fluff in store, so stay tuned for that! Here`s a tiny spoiler; the yule ball scene, which I`m writing now, is going to be so good. SO GOOD!

My cheeks are aching from laughing so much, but despite our bantering, we all managed to finish a good chunk of our homework. Lyra and I had finished with the potions essay we had gotten assigned today, and while I had no idea how far Joe had gotten, Amy was well on her way despite the frequent complaining about how bad she was at potions and how much she hated it. She had brought snacks from the kitchen and the library was almost empty since it was a friday night, and we had such a good time throughout it all. We had planned a Hogsmeade trip together, and I was already looking forward to it as I bounced up the steps of the Astronomy tower at midnight. I had written my essay on one of Jupiter's satellites, Europa, and it's orbits, and I had put extra effort into color coding the patterns of it. When I handed it to Professor Sinistra she smiled at me and gave my hand a light pat as she took the essay from me, quickly glancing over it.  
“Good job on the last one, Miss Smiles, and this one looks excellent as well,” She says before letting me join the rest of the class.  
I nod shortly at her in response and hurry over to set up my telescope, but butterflies are fluttering in my stomach at the praise. I take a seat and glance up at the sky, an inner peace rushing over me. It's a clear night, chilly but not cold, the stars bright above my head. I smile to myself and start filling out my star chart, using the gold pen I had brought from home, happy to work undisturbed. Occasionally I'd pause to just gaze up at the sky and the brightness that greeted me, counting them. It was oddly comforting to know there there were an infinite amount of stars and that counting every single one of them was impossible, that I could come back every single clear night without having seen and counted each star. There was consistency in that, in infinity, and I had always found that interesting. When the class draws to a close at 1 am and we`re free to go, I feel a calmness that I hadn't in a while. I still don't dare ask the questions my mind has formed over the past few weeks, but I'm allowing myself to wonder, to think about it all in small doses, and it makes me feel more grounded. I also know that I cannot carry all of this alone, and it might be time to do what I`ve been frightened of doing; too proud to do maybe. When I reach my dorm I take a seat at my usual spot and let my thoughts wander for another hour, gazing out the window at the same sky I had looked at before, leaning my forehead against the cool glass.

I was sitting across from Amy and Lyra in the Three Broomsticks, laughing and waving as Joe came running in 10 minutes late, nearly knocking over a chair in the process. He threw himself into the seat next to me with a grin, and we all ordered butterbeers.   
“And!” Lyra continues her story, rolling her eyes at Joe's arrival. “He shows us the cruciatus curse, which like on its own is totally insane and like the headmaster can't have approved this, but how to defend yourself. Like, I don't want to think it's cool, but I do. And you know, maybe he's got a point. After the world cup events, who knows what's going to happen. We`ll be prepared for worst case scenarios!”   
I watch her carefully, raising my eyebrow at her.  
“Since when are you for abandoning the curriculum? We have o.w.l.s this year!” I exclaim. “I'd hate to do poorly in DADA just because we haven't been taught anything we get on our exams,”  
Lyra shrugs.  
“I know, I know, but still. We can DEFEND ourselves, that's important too. I`ve been reading the curriculum on the side, which is all super interesting, but I don`t know Jess, I worry it might be useful. You should think that of all people,” She notes.  
I tense, but react before I can collect myself.  
“What's that supposed to mean,” My tone is cool, and I see the fire in Lyra`s eyes.  
The other two remain silent, still uncertain how to act during these situations between us. I wait patiently, silently challenging her.   
“You know what I mean, Jess,” She says slowly, an iciness in her voice that comes close to watching mine.  
I don't know whether I`m more hurt or angry, or a chaotic mix of both.   
“If you think so, maybe you shouldn't be sitting here before me. I`m a good witch, Lyra, powerful, and I might do bad things,” I bite back.  
My voice speaks before I can process what is happening, my mind somehow settling on self-sabotage.  
“That's not what she meant, Jess,” Amy says quietly, hands fidgeting with a notebook in her lap.  
She doesn't quite dare to hold our gazes, but there is a careful determination there that seems to linger just below the surface.  
“If that's not what she meant, she would have said so,” I will myself to sound calm, even though my insides are twisting and my vision is going hazy.  
Lyra bits her lip, as if she`s rethinking this entire argument, but she's never been one to back down.  
“Look, Jess, I just mean with everything that happened to you at the world cup…,” Lyra begins, but I interrupt.  
“What happened to all of us, you mean,”  
Lyra rolls her eyes and lets out a frustrated groan.  
“Yes, but no. Come on, you know the death eaters targeted you. There's a reason for that,” She points out.  
Amy is looking panicked and sharing glances with Joe, who`s making some indivisible movements of his head at her in return.  
“The reason for that being that I'm destined to join them, you mean. If you`re gonna think it, you might as well say it,” I spat at her.  
I stand so abruptly I send my chair flying backwards, and everyone crowding The Three Broomsticks turns to look at the commotion. I give Lyra a cold look before turning on my heels and marching out the door, a whirlwind of feelings barely contained within me.

A poor tree had to suffer my temper, and the ancient bark is scarred from where my spells hit it. I raise my wand again, my hand trembling, and send out another row of spells, flashes of blue and purple mixing with sparks. I don't even know what words I'm muttering, and while some of them come out rather refined, like stupify, others are messy and incomplete, but I don`t care. One backfires and burns my hand, but still I continue until I no longer feel an overwhelming mixture of panic and fear and hurt.  
“Questionable,” A voice interrupts my outlet of rage and I whip around.  
I come face to face with Marcus Flint, who is leaning against a tree nearby with his arms crossed. He's trying to look casual, but he just looks awkward and out of place to me. He's left his group of friends he usually surrounded himself with behind, but I can see them lingering on the path; probably waiting for him to return. A blush rises to my cheeks as I realize I've suddenly got an audience, and I wonder how much they've seen. I decide not to give him any attention and shrug, which gives me a good opportunity to turn my back to him and hide my embarrassment. He doesn't give up that easily, though, and he must be particularly bored today as he trails after me, glancing at the marks I've left on the tree.  
“You`re so unremarkable,” He comments nonchalantly. “But this magic… nice,”  
I throw him a look of disgust, but I genuinely don't think he notices even as he meets my gaze. There's something dangerous in his eyes, something that I was desperately trying to figure out, but he looks away before I find the answers I need.   
“What spells?” He urges on.  
I shrug.  
“You should talk more,” He says in a low voice.  
He's coming awfully close now, and I step away, shrugging again. He lingers by my side for a moment too long before giving me a forced smirk, giving me a once-over with his gaze.  
“See you around,” He leaves me standing with my mouth half agape, confused at the interaction that had just gone down.  
We had gone to the same school for over 4 years now, and had never acknowledged my presence. We weren't in the same year, so he was excused there, and whenever we crossed paths he was present as the center of attention and I was somewhere in the background. Still, that didn't explain why he was suddenly speaking to me. I didn't like it, and I grew suspicious of why, yet it left me curious too. I could still see those dark eyes stare into mine with that intriguing expression, and I shook the thought away before it could fully form. Not all questions needed answers, and I was happy remaining in the background in this case. It was better that way.


	13. Chapter 13

I`ve successfully stayed hidden in my dorm the rest of the weekend, but when monday comes around, I`m forced to face the crowds again. The thought of running into Lyra makes me feel sick, and I had been awake most of the night analyzing what had happened during our argument. I was still angry at her, hurt too, but my mind was beginning to think in more rational patterns. I consider the possibility that I overreacted, even though Lyra`s way of speaking was direct, too direct often, and that we'd miscommunicated. Still, I had acted the way I had, and now I had to stand for it. I convinced myself to hold my head high as I walked to my first class, but I failed in trying to convince myself that I was better off without them. I wasn't. I brush past my usual seat next to Lyra and Joe and sit with one of Margot`s sidekicks in ancient runes, and she seems annoyed about it for half of the class until she realizes she can copy my work. Once class finishes stands I stand quickly, shoving my books into my bag. Lyra rises from her chair just after and Joe moves to block my path, giving me a questioning smile. I return it, but glancing at Lyra has me feeling anxious again and I look away, avoiding eye contact even as she seeks it. I rush past them, escaping the room before anyone can speak to me. Transfiguration passes quickly and I sit at the back in silence and practice my spells, occasionally receiving an approving nod from professor McGonagall.

The library is almost entirely empty save for a few other students, which isn't surprising as it`s lunchtime. My stomach is growling, but I can't bring myself to face the consequences of a situation I was a large part in creating. Apologizing didn't come easy to me, and especially not when I was still both hurt and embarrassed. I sigh and open up my book, deciding now was a good time to start on my transfiguration homework, eager to get it out of the way. I consider pulling out my walkman that`s reserved for emergencies, and I'm beginning to think that this may be one of those situations. It's too quiet around me and some background noise would do me good but I was trying to save the batteries so they would last until christmas.  
"Uh, hey," A voice disturbed my thought process.  
I look up to see Lyra, who's watching me apprehensively. There are dark circles beneath her eyes and there is a messiness to her hair that is unusual for her, and she seems to be waiting for me to respond.   
"Hey," I breathe out.  
"Hi Jess!" Joe beams at me, giving Lyra a little nudge.  
Lyra reaches out her hand and gives me a box, which I cautiously accept.  
"Eating isn't allowed in the library," She comments.  
There's a smile tugging at the corner of my lips and I study the contents, seeing that she`s brought me a sandwich. I chuckle and shake my head.  
"Thanks," I say, then clear my throat and meet her gaze. "So, about our... fight, uh, discussion,"  
"Yeaaah..," Lyra joins in.  
It was quite comforting that she was as awkward as me, and I find myself smiling.  
"I think I might have jumped to conclusions too fast," I mutter.  
Lyra hums.  
"And I should have worded myself better, I now realize how it could have easily been misunderstood," She says slowly, glancing at Joe who gives her a supportive nod. "What I meant to say was that... Well, I was worried because of what happened to you, and you know, if it would happen again... I just wanted you to be able to protect yourself, or at least be somewhat prepared for what's coming,"  
I stare at her for a moment, all the hurt and anger instantly fading away as I have to blink back my tears.  
"Oh," I manage to say, before collecting myself. "I`m so sorry. I thought you meant, you know, since my parents were Death Eaters... Ugh, I don't even know Lyra, I`m so sorry,"  
Lyra lets out a relieved sigh and almost bounces on the spot before embracing me.  
"And I`m sorry too. I understand it's uncomfortable being confronted with the unforgivable curses, I should have thought about it,"  
I stand in order to hug her better, and Joe throws his arm around me and squeezes my shoulder.  
"Now that we`re all best friends again," He interrupts our sentimental moment. "We have potions. Let's go,"  
I quickly eat my food and join my friends as we head to our next class, relief rushing through me.

It takes me three weeks to finally pick up the courage to write what I`d been thinking about for a long time, and I`d allowed myself to be inspired by how loyal and supportive my friends remained even though they knew what they did about me. Still, I couldn't burden them with something like this, didn't wanna lose that precious time I had with them to the heaviness of my mind, but I couldn't bear carrying it alone for much longer. The nightmares were overwhelming and I knew myself well enough to realize that if I went longer with so little sleep I`d hit a wall. 

Dear Professor Lupin,

I began, but I hesitated as soon as I had put the words down, my quill hovering above the parchment. It felt awkward writing him now, like I was overstepping some boundaries. Whether they were my own or more general ones I didn't quite know. I had never been one to ask for help, nor tell someone about my problems, and there was something about having to swallow my pride that I found difficult. Besides, he was my former professor, and writing to him felt too private for that kind of relationship, and I wondered whether it would make him more uncomfortable. Yet he had been so kind and understanding last year, and his office had become a safe haven over time. He would feed me chocolate and give me a warm cup of tea when the nightmares threatened to drive me insane, when I couldn't control the memories flooding my mind, when the barriers no longer held. He'd listened to it all, and most importantly; he hadn't judged. He had heard who my parents were, and the horrible things they had done and taken part in, the terrors of my home those first years, and he had not looked at me differently. He still saw potential in me and reassured me that I decided my own path, that I was good even if my parents were not. He had told me I could write when he had decided to depart. He wouldn't have offered if he didn't mean it, would he? I sigh and dip my pen in ink, convincing myself I had to do this. I look out the window and at the darkness settling outside, the lights in the library dim, and start writing again.

Dear Professor Lupin,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have been uncertain whether or not to write to you, but here I am, so I guess I have decided to do so anyways. I`m sorry if you did not wish to receive it, but I do not know who else to write who will listen. I can`t burden my friends with this, they`re already worried, and there is no one else who knows/understands. 

You probably heard of what happened at the World Cup at the riot there started by the Death Eaters. It seemed like just that, and I know it probably was, but with the dark mark appearing and all those death eaters coming out of hiding… I guess I'm just worried. They spotted me in the crowd, and singled me out. They knew who I was, or who my parents were I guess, and they were set on capturing me. I don't know why. Or, I guess I do, but… I don't think I do. What would they want with me, I`m of no use to them now, right? Anyways, I did escape with the help of some strangers, and I was safe in the end, but it can't be good. Why do they know me? What do they want with me? Dumbledore promised me I`d be safe when I got my acceptance letter, that Hogwarts would protect me, that they'd never find me. But that isn't true now, is it? There's also a new professor at Hogwarts, who's taken the position in DADA, his name is Professor Moody, but I have a bad feeling about him. He singled me out during our first class and asked me to name the unforgivable curses even though I didn't raise my hand and others did, and his attention kept landing on me in class after. It feels a bit strange, you know, and I worry so much. And the nightmares have gotten more intense again and the memories are out of control and I worry I soon can`t tell them apart anymore. I have all this magic within me and it frightens me because I worry all the thoughts and nightmares and lack of sleep will make me lose control of it, and I don't know what spells to use to get it all out because nothing seems to be helping. I feel like I'm barely holding onto sanity right now, and I don't know what I want to achieve by writing to you but I just needed to let it out. I`m desperately holding tight to my friends and am excited about the tournament taking place in a few weeks, but there's all this… background noise that ruins it all. Anyways, I`m sorry for taking up your time and overstepping boundaries,

At first I sign it with my name, but change my mind and cross it out with my quill, writing an elegant “JS” instead. It was probably just as obvious, I realized, but it did make me feel a bit safer. I ran to the owlery before I could change my mind and tied the letter to Boo`s leg, sending her off. I watch her soar into the night sky, leaning against the cold stone and watching her shape disappear into the stars. I stand there for a while longer and breathe in cool air, giving myself time to work through the anxiety that had been building up within me.


	14. Chapter 14

A large crowd had gathered in the entrance hall, and I followed suit as Amy and Joe pushed their way to the front. There was a notice there that drew all the attention, stating that the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be arriving at 6 o'clock on the 30th of October, meaning this Friday, for the Triwizard Tournament. It told us to assemble in front of the castle to welcome our guests before the feast, and that midnight classes would be cancelled. Excitement rushed through me, and despite having to miss my favorite class one week, I joined in as everyone started chatting all at once. I hooked arms with Joe and leaned in to whisper to my friends.  
“I wonder who will be the Hogwarts Champion, and I'm excited to see other students,” I say.  
Joe is practically jumping up and down on his spot, a large sloppy grin on his face.  
“Yes yes, I can`t wait to get to know them! Honestly, a Durmstrang boyfriend would be cool. A Beauxbatons one too, to be fair, I`m not picky. Imagine,” He gestures with his hands as he speaks, almost punching a first year in the face.  
I laugh and then will my expression to be neutral, shrugging casually.  
“I actually wouldn't mind third wheeling that,” I state, and Joe gives me a high five.  
“Same, to be fair, but,” Lyra interrupts, sneaking past us to read the notice herself. “I wonder how we stand academically compared to them. I`d be interested what they learn at their schools and how different it is to us,”  
Joe stares at her and blinks, crossing his arms.  
“Academics? People from across Europe are coming to visit us, and you are thinking about academics?” He gasps and clutches his chest, pretending to fall down to the ground.  
Lyra nods firmly.  
“It is actually quite interesting, Joe. Our cultures must be different, and that has an impact on the curriculum. I bet they're like super smart,” She says dreamily.  
I hum in agreement, but Amy speaks before I can.  
“Cedric said Viktor Krumm goes to Durmstrang and might be coming!” She added in a whisper, glancing around her to make sure no one else heard.  
If Cedric was her source of information most of the school probably already knew, but I didn't mention that to her.  
“Friday can't come soon enough,” Joe says with a wink to me, and I have to agree with him.

Friday morning the great hall was buzzing with excitement, and I was caught between muttering and eager chatter during breakfast. I occasionally smiled and nodded along when someone looked at me, but otherwise sat in silence and finished up the charms reading for next week. My owl, Boo disturbed me a few minutes in, though, but as soon as I saw the scribbly writing on the letter, I was glad for the interruption. 

Dear Jessica,

I`m glad to be hearing from you. I was beginning to worry since it's been so long since we have spoken, but I feel more secure knowing you realize I meant it when I told you that you could write to me any time.

In regards to the World Cup, I did hear of the events. Telling you not to worry would most likely be the right thing to do, but I can't bring myself to ask something like that of you. I understand that you are worried, especially when they recognized you and then targeted you. That is troublesome and something to be aware of, but you`re a clever girl and know that. I can`t put you at ease entirely, but I fully trust that you are safe at Hogwarts, and that their reappearance was a one time thing. Have you told Dumbledore of this happening? I'm certain he would like to know. You are under his protection, after all, and he is a man who takes that duty seriously.

When it comes to your nightmare and your troubles sleeping, I`ve included a bag of herbal tea that has helped me out throughout the years. It's no miracle cure, but it can be off assistance. I worry there is only so much I can do to help while I`m so far away. Are these nightmares things you remember to be true, as in real memories, or are they a spin-off of these memories? You need to focus on the facts within them and separate what is real from what is not. I know you have seen and experienced terrible things, and I wouldn't recommend such a thing if I felt like there was an option, but for you to gain control, you may need to accept that they are there and work through them. Now, I know that this will be a challenging task, and you cannot do it on your own, but I do know that you are capable of it. If you don`t fear them, they can't control us. Not unlike the monsters we believed to live under our bed when we were children, only we know the monsters and they often aren't hiding. When it comes to your magic, the matter is the same. It is hard, I know that, but you can't fear your magic and the power you hold, it's only going to make it stronger. It is not meant for evil, Jessica, it is for you to decide what to do with it. If you don't reach for the full dept of it and learn to control it, it's going to seep over the edges little by little and you won't control it. Practice your spell work and pour your all into it. Sneak away, I bet you know more places than I do but if you don`t, I recommend speaking to the Weasley twins, and practice. Every night if you must. I know it is hard, Jessica, but it will give you back control, and you`ll feel safer. 

There were a few words scribbled down that he had crossed out, and his handwriting looked messy and unfinished, as if something had disturbed him while writing and he hadn't gotten back to it.

Trust Dumbledore.

Moony

I frown at the last sentence, wondering why he felt the need to include that. I trusted Dumbledore, I did, in the way that I knew he would keep me safe within the grounds of Hogwarts because he kept every single student safe. I had not spoken to him since my second year, where he had ceased having semi regular conversations with me. Back then I was so frightened of the wizarding world, and perhaps the world in general, that words poured out of me uncontrollably, and those first few months of my stay at Hogwarts I'd told him so much. Much more than I was comfortable with. Luckily for me it was but a jumble of words and sentences and looking back I don't think much made sense, and I think I was too young and too much of a mess to understand any of it myself. There were all these memories and flashbacks and nightmares, and I had a desperate urge to get them out, as if that would get them away from me. Dumbledore would just sit and listen and hum at times, but I hadn't found the conversations particularly helpful. Maybe his strategy was listening. Maybe it was what I had needed then. But did I trust him? No. When I think back of all that I shared I feel a discomfort of having said too much, of baring my soul to someone I do not know and holds power over me, and I hate that. I don't want to be there again. And why did Professor Lupin mention the Weasley twins? That probably wasn't that bad of an idea, though. If I were to practice my spellwork, they`d for sure know secret passageways or suitable rooms hidden to any curious bystanders.


	15. Chapter 15

Snape practically herds all the Slytherin`s together, and my hopes of standing with my friends disappear altogether when he sends me a particularly ugly sneer. Everyone's pushing to be in the front and Professor Snape is barking at them to stand in neat formations, and I decide to tag along with Margot. I end up standing in front of Marcus Flint and behind Blaise, Theo and Draco, who are all muttering without being told off. There's a tap on my shoulder and I turn around to face Marcus, who's looking at me with the expression I had begun to associate with him. Something between a smile and a smirk, and those dark eyes where I found something daunting but also intriguing, his hair slicked back which gave him a stern look.  
“So, Smiles,” He begins, pausing to look around, I assume to make sure he had everyone's attention. “I guess since there will be no quidditch this year I need a different form of amusement,”  
I frown at him, shaking my hair over my shoulder and turning away from him to wait for our guests. There's a blush on my cheeks that I can't convince to go away no matter how hard I try.  
“I would assume that a couple dozen students from foreign schools would provide you with enough amusement. If not, there`s always the rumored death tasks to keep you occupied,”  
He doesn't let my dismissive nature throw him off, though, and he reaches out to smooth out my hair over my cloak.  
“So you think I should enter the tournament, then? I bet you`d cheer for me,” He mutters as Snape walks past, his gaze gliding over us.  
I`m still blushing, and I'm glad he can't see it. I don't know why my body's reactions have decided to betray me now, and I wonder if it's just confused by the sudden attention I'm getting.  
“Do what you want,” I say softly, and he has to lean in to catch it.  
I can feel his breath ghost over my neck and I shiver, suddenly unsure whether I want to lean in or pull away. He's about to speak, but he's interrupted by a couple of gasps from students surrounding us, followed by shouting. A large dark shape was soaring through the deep blue sky, approaching Hogwarts at a rapid speed. It was a massive carriage in a soft powder blue, drawn by a dozen winged horses about three times their usual size, and I thought to myself that the wizarding world was incredibly strange and wonderful, watching their hooves collide with the ground as the carriage came to a halt. Out stepped a lady who was tall and broad, which explained the size of the carriage, dressed in the most beautiful satin dress and cloak, her hand reaching out towards Dumbledore.  
“Madame Maxime,” he says, and the students behind him break out into applause.  
I join them as Madame Maxime motions behind her and a dozen or so students pour out from the carriage, all of them dressed in silk in a soft shade of blue, shivering as the cold greets them. They were watching us apprehensively, but some of them were smiling, and I found myself envying their uniforms. We barely had time to take in the sight of them and their arrival, when a shout from the crowd interrupted us.  
“The lake!” A voice I recognized as Lee Jordan shouted.  
Everyone turns to look at the lake, but my gaze is drawn to Lee Jordan and those he stands with. The Weasley twins, hopping up and down and shouting, doing exactly the opposite of what Professor McGonagall had probably told them too, causing a ruckus. The weak sunlight caught on their red hair, making it look all the more like fire, and I think of Professor Lupin`s words telling me to speak with them. Maybe I would, I thought, but my attention shifted. The occupants of the ship that had docked in the lake were making their way towards us, led by a man dressed in all kinds of furs, with a scowl on his face that reminded me of Professor Snape. His students formed in neat lines behind me, all looking rather intimidating, but at least they were prepared for the Scottish weather.  
“Professor Karkaroff,” Dumbledore said.  
Professor Karkaroff was smiling, but his eyes were unusually cool, and I suppressed a shiver. This was certainly going to be an interesting year.

The Great Hall was cast in silence as Dumbledore motioned towards the Goblet of Fire, and I don`t think I had ever heard so many people breathe as quietly as they could while he talked us through the rules. He explained that you had to write your name on a piece of parchment and drop it in, and that tomorrow on Halloween the Goblet would pick it`s champions. He assured us that he would be putting an Age Line around the Goblet to ensure nobody under the age of seventeen would be able to enter, and I heard some disappointed muttering around me. I kept my head down even when Marcus made eye contact with me and winked, his lips forming a narrow line, and my heartbeat increased. When we were excused I jumped up from my seat almost instantly and rushed past the excited students to wait for my friends outside. Amy is the first to fight her way out of the chaos as the Durmstrangs leave the castle, and she pulls me aside as Lyra and Joe lag behind.  
“What`s up with you? You look panicked,” Amy points out, raising an eyebrow at me.  
“Nothing,” I shake my head. “It's just…,”  
I was about to explain Marcus`s strange behavior of contacting me, but we`re being pushed aside as students are flooding the hallways. They`re pushing and chatting too loudly, I realize, but I can't see over the crowd. Amy grabs my arm so hard I let out a pained yelp, but she doesn't seem to notice. Joe finds us then, his bandana that held back his strawberry blond hair askew, green eyes bright and emotional. He throws an arm around Amy, who finally let`s go of me, and they jump up and down while Lyra and I share confused looks.  
“It's Viktor Krumm! They brought Viktor Krumm!” Joe squealed.  
“Who?” Lyra asks, urging for us all to step back so we wouldn't get trampled as a group of Gryffindor`s run past. I hear a professor shouting at them, and they slow down to an awkward power walk.  
“The Quidditch guy, right?” I say before the others can reply.  
Amy nods excitedly, her pink hair dancing around her head. She said something, but I couldn't hear what she was saying as I was pushed against the wall, all other sounds becoming distant to me. My vision became blurry and I felt the magic run through my veins, my fists automatically curling into fist in an attempt to contain it. I could register movement, and voices, but they became vague and far-away, and my body felt clammy and hot, my lungs somehow restricted. Something, someone, touched me, but I couldn't tell who, my limbs refusing to move.  
“Library,” I barely made out the word in a sentence said to me, and I felt myself nod.  
There was a hand in mine, and I noticed how sweaty my skin was, until we reached a flight of stairs and they let go. I blink and see Lyra smiling at me, motioning for me to follow as we leave the world behind.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again all so much for reading!
> 
> Lots of good twin moments coming up, which means lots of cute George moments. Hope you`re enjoying it so far :)

It was getting late, but we had gotten little work done as we occupied the far corner of the library. Joe and Amy had been talking about Quidditch, or Viktor Krumm specifically, for the past two hours, and Lyra was half-listening, half-working. I had gotten as far as opening up my Charms book, but hadn't bothered writing my name on top of the parchment yet. I was waiting for Joe and Amy to finish talking about a certain quidditch player, but their excitement was too much to contain. I nudge Lyra, who turns her attention towards me.  
“Hey, can I… run something past you?” I ask cautiously, looking around to make sure we were out of range from any curious listeneners.  
She nods, and I lean in, thinking about how to word myself.  
“You know who Marcus Flint is, right?” I begin, watching her reaction.  
“Quidditch Captain, Slytherin, Seventh Year, total idiot?” She says casually, as if she's just looked it up in an overview of all Hogwarts students that she kept somewhere in her mind.  
“Uh,” She's thrown me off now. “Yeah, that guy,”  
“What about him?” She urges me on, and I can see I've caught her full attention.  
“He's been… I don't know, weird lately. Like, talking to me and stuff, seeking me out in a crowd… Smiling at me,” I mutter.  
“Ooo, someone's got a crush,” She giggles.  
Joe throws a glance our way, but Amy is showing him a drawing of a quidditch pitch and some kind of action I wasn't that interested in, and his focus shifts again. I nudge Lyra.  
“It's not like that I mean, he`s quidditch captain, popular and a seventh year. He's got a line of girls. But I don`t know, it's just a bit odd. We`ve never been on… these… terms before,” I frown.  
Lyra turns serious instantly and bites her lip, indicating she was analyzing my words.  
“Hm, I actually don't know. Maybe he likes cute and mysterious girls like you though, he seems like the type to be intrigued by it,” She finally decides.  
“That's not good,” I hiss, shaking my head at her.  
“Why not?” She fires back, her calmness contradicting my panic.  
“I don`t know…,” I`m fumbling for words now, and Lyra looks proud to have achieved it. “I don't want anyone to be intrigued by me. I don't want the attention. It's complicated,”  
“He's an idiot, but some attention would do you good. Look at it as practice,” Lyra says, which she finds awfully helpful, but I feel no more secure in this odd situation I've found myself in.

I find myself in the library early the next morning, my hand scribbling neatly as I studied the book in front of me. My eyes felt heavy and my back was sore from the hunching over I was doing, and the lack of sleep made my brain slow. My body was still functioning fairly well, though, as I promised it breakfast after I had finished this essay. I had barely gotten any sleep as I feared the nightmares, and I cursed myself for not being brave enough to follow Professor Lupin`s advice. I would, though, I promised myself. Tonight. Maybe I could take him up and speak to the Weasley Twins about some hidden spots to practice spell work. Getting some of this magic out before my next DADA class would be good, as I could avoid attention from Professor Moody, and it always helped with my charms and transfiguration. I seemed to be in luck, because it appeared I wasn't the only one looking for an alliance. I heard them approach from a distance, their voices booming through the otherwise quiet library, and I just managed to hold back an eye roll as they set their goal for the desk where I`m peacefully studying. Fred and George stand before me, their shapes towering over me, and I realize they`re both ridiculously tall, both of them carrying mischievous grins on their face.  
“You`re smart, right?” The one I recognize as Fred says.  
I don`t know why I can tell the difference between them, or when I learned this, but Fred's face was slightly shorter, and there was a fullness to his cheeks that George lacked. George had sharper features, his cheekbones more prominent and his shoulders broader. My heart is pounding in my chest, but I try not to show it, instead turning my attention back to my books.  
“What kind of question is that?” I say, and my tone sounds cool even to my own ears.  
They don`t let this throw them off, though.  
“Jessica, right? Top of your class?” George steps in.  
His voice is softer than Freds, I realize, but I banish that thought out of my head as soon as it comes. I shrug in response.  
“We`re… here for a partnership of a sort,” Fred continues.  
I snorted before I could hold it back, covering it up with a cough that made it all too obvious what I was doing.  
“A partnership?” I say carefully, glancing up at them. “Because I'm… smart? How do you even know that?”  
“Word goes around, but that's all beside the point,” Fred says. “We need your help,”  
I was almost entirely certain that word did in fact not go around about me, especially not about my smarts, but I left it be.   
“If you need someone smart, you're friends with that Granger kid. You`ll be more successful there,” I bite, closing my book with a thud and giving them a pointed look.  
I cursed the blush on my cheeks, hoping they didn't notice my trembling hands. Fred was still taking the word, and George was watching me carefully, his hair falling in front of his eyes. I frown.  
“Granger didn't want to help us. Something about it not being morally right,” Fred replies smoothly.  
I stand abruptly, fumbling to collect my things. I hope the fury transfers into my eyes as I finally meet Fred`s gaze.  
“So I`m your second choice, damn, probably lower, and you think that because I'm a slytherin I don't have the same moral compass as you gryffindors? Well, I`m VERY sorry to disappoint, but I do not want to help you out,” I brushed past them, shoving my things into my bag as I went.   
I don`t know why I`m allowing their words and judgements to hurt me, but I don't think I have enough strength not to. I have to bite back tears as I rush through the hallways, and their words resurface whenever my mind isn't occupied with other thoughts throughout the day. I guess I couldn't follow Professor Lupin`s advice after all.

Amy and I were sending notes back and forth during the Halloween feast, and I was surprised that no professor had caught us yet as a tiny paper bird fluttered it's way to me. I think they were too excited themselves to find out who the champions were going to be, and telling off otherwise quiet students probably wasn't within their priorities. Amy was mostly writing funny jokes her teammates had been telling her, occasionally throwing in an observation about Viktor Krumm that was borderline creepy and stalkerish as she noted that he was eating a pumpkin pie and he didn't seem to like it, but it had me laughing to myself. We had seated ourselves so we could make eye contact, and I was glad for the distraction. She had put her hair in a bun and was sitting next to the girl I recognized to be her almost-girlfriend, who had the decency to smile at me once, even if it was a bit tense. Eventually the feast ends and the time to pick the champions draws near, and there is a tension in the great hall that I hadn't experienced before. I glanced over at the Durmstrangs who sat at the end of our table, and their eyes were all on the Goblet of Fire, their furred cloaks standing out among the crowd. The blue flames suddenly turned red, and the Goblet spat out a piece of parchment, then after a pause another, and another. Viktor Krumm, Fleur Delacour and Cedric Diggory, and the whole room broke out into a deafening applause. Sparks flew from the Goblet again, brighter this time, and there was another piece of parchment that Dumbledore caught apprehensively. Dumbledore went silent and the clapping ceased, before he cleared his throat.  
“Harry Potter,” He shouted, and I was glad I wasn't him as all eyes turned in his direction.  
I realize that this was probably what the Weasley twins wanted my help for. To think they could trick a spell put in place by Dumbledore was undeniably foolish, but also quite ambitious. I don`t know why they thought I would be able to help them out, though, and it had me worried. Why did they know I was top of my class? Who had they heard it from, and what power did that knowledge hold?


	17. Chapter 17

I curl up on the floor in the astronomy tower, my legs resting against the cool railing as the November air wraps around me. I had finished up another day of classes and had managed to escape the chaos of it all after dinner, hiding from the world for a while. The last few days had been exciting, and I thought Cedric made a great champion, but there were more people than usual and everyone was so high on energy that it all got a little too overwhelming. The entire Harry Potter ordeal was strange though, and the Slytherin`s wouldn't shut up about it. I didn't know him, and intended to keep it that way, but was curious to see how it would play out with the Triwizard Tournament. It was bound to be exciting. Until then, though, I sought out some peace and quiet when everything else got too loud. I was finessing my star chart from a few days before, neatening up the lines and colors I had drawn it in. It was unnecessary and there was other homework I could get a head start on, but I found this rather relaxing.  
“Hey,” A voice interrupted my peace.  
I startle and jump, clutching the star chart to my chest as I look around, my eyes trying to adjust to the dim light. A tall shape stood a distance away from me, seemingly hesitating, his hand resting on the banister. He took a step closer and shoved his hands in the pockets of his black trousers, his shoulders hunched. His brown eyes were watching me with curiosity, his red and gold tie slightly askew. A Weasley twin. I say nothing, blinking slowly as I look at him. He clears his throat and shuffles his feet, but eventually stands his ground.  
“Mind if I join you?” He asks carefully.  
George, I realized. I frown and indicate towards the spot before me, even though I did in fact mind. He walks over and sits down, his legs almost brushing against mine as he tries to tuck them beneath him, creating a small distance between us. He leans his back against the wall and his gaze is drawn to the grey sky outside. We sit in silence for a bit, and I watch the rain fall from stormy clouds, listen to it drum against the castle instead of his loud breathing. I can feel him watching me, a strange tension in the air, and my fingers are trembling even as I push them flat against the floor. Eventually he speaks, and I let out a little sigh of relief. The rude remarks certainly beat the uncomfortable silence.  
“What are you doing?” His tone is apprehensive but soft.  
I dare steal a look at him and see he is still studying me, and I notice that his entire expression changes when he isn't grinning. He looks almost curious, I think, gentle. I frown in response, nodding towards the piece of parchment I had been working on.  
“Star chart,” I say shortly, my eyes not quite willing to meet his.  
“For astronomy?” He sounds almost shy without his twin there to support him.  
I nod, and the silence once again settles between us. He`s fidgeting, his fingers tracing some kind of pattern on the metal railings and then catching raindrops. He pulls his knee to his chest and then a few seconds later drops them again, shifting his entire position, and we just sit there for a while, letting time pass.

I want to break the awkwardness, but don't want to give him that satisfaction either. He must have sought me out for something, so he should be the one speaking.  
“About the other day… Look, I… It came out messed up, our request, and I`m sorry. I know it didn't sound like it, but we actually didn't mean it like that,” He eventually manages to say.  
I study his expression when he looks away, at his sharp features that have softened under the dim lighting, at his eyes that are a deep shade of brown with specks of gold. He seems genuine to me, but still, there wasn't much room for interpretation in what he had said. Except, he had not been the one to say it.  
“It wasn't you who said it, so why are you apologizing? You`re not the same person, you do realize that right?” I intended for my voice to be cool, but I was flustered and awkward and it was too high-pitched.  
The corners of his lips pulled upwards.  
“Yeah,” He sighs. “I know. Look, I just felt bad for what had been said and that I took part in it. It was messed up, and I didn't mean for it to play out like that,”  
I say nothing, and his fingers are now drumming against the floor.  
“Who did you hear I was smart from, anyways?” I ask, cursing myself for not being able to contain my curiosity.  
He chuckles at that, and his shoulders lose some of the tension.  
“Cedric, actually. He said you were top of your class and a skilled witch,” George explains.  
“I didn't know you were friends with Cedric,” I say lamely, because the words fall out before my mind can form them.  
“Watching who I interact with, eh?” He winks at me and I laugh, covering my mouth with my hand. “I`m not really, I mean he's cool and all, but I approached him to ask how you were doing after the world cup,”  
I`m thrown off by that, but I can't show him that.  
“Why didn't you just ask me?” I bite back.  
I`m surprised his expression remains casual and he responds with a calmness that could almost be mistaken for kindness.  
“You`re a hard girl to get hold of, you know. First of all, we don`t go in the same year which means our classes are like totally opposite, and second, whenever I spot you, you`re always running from here to there. You`re impossible to catch,”  
I don't quite understand how laughter suddenly comes so easy, but he's brought it out for the second time in this conversation.  
“You didn't come up with a way to trick the age line then?” I ask him, and he shakes his head.  
“It backfired,” He shrugged.  
“Ah. Sorry. To be fair, I don't think I could have helped you out either way. Outsmarting age lines put in place by the headmaster isn't really my fortè,” I offer him a small smile.  
He meets my eyes and mirrors my smile.  
“What is your fortè then?”  
He keeps throwing me off my game, and it's beginning to get annoying. I had expected him to end the conversation at this, it would be a natural thing to do, but somehow he had found it suitable to ask for my… fortè. I take a deep breath and take a moment to think trying desperately to shift focus until an idea pops up into my head.  
“Hey, actually, I have a question for you,” I say a little too loud, my voice filling the open space surrounding us.  
I cringe, but stop myself from covering it up with some kind of invention that was only going to make it worse.  
“Shoot!” George responds a little too excitedly.  
He leans forward, and I catch the faint scent of fireworks, chocolate and cinnamon, mixed with something earthy. I quickly create some distance between us.  
“If I were to be looking for a place that is hidden to any curious wanderers, within the castle, a hallway or room where I could do some… homework in peace, would you know of anything?” I ask carefully, gauging his response.  
His face breaks out into a massive grin that makes me smile.  
“I know a couple of places. Meet me at midnight tomorrow, by the courtyard, and I will show you,” He says before he leaps to his feet.  
A voice in my head tells me it could be a trick to get me into trouble, that it probably is, but I don't want to listen to it. I hate to admit it, but an adventure after curfew sounds kinda fun, and I really do need that free space.


	18. Chapter 18

I tiptoed through the castle just before midnight, my body pushed against the wall as I listened for any sounds that indicated I might get caught. I had gotten pretty good at sneaking up to the astronomy tower after curfew and knew at which times Filch would do his rounds and where potential risky areas were, but I had never really sneaked out to go anywhere else. The courtyard seemed like one of those high-risk areas that I'd otherwise avoid, and I was beginning to worry that this could be a trap. I hadn't told my friends I was going, which I realize now could be a bad decision as they could vouch for me should I get caught, and it seemed a little suspicious that George had been so willing to help me out. When I think about it he had been nice, too nice, considering he had offended me the day before that. Well, not he, technically, but he hadn't said anything to protest the remark either, so he was partly to blame. I bet they would think it's fun to get a Slytherin in trouble, especially one that usually stayed off the radar. Snape would love to punish me, and I had heard rumors of how strict professor McGonagall was, and they`d probably be on high alert now that we had guests at Hogwarts. I had thought over all these options and reasonings, well aware that I was probably making a mistake, yet here I was, going anyways. Dumb, but curious as adrenaline settled in my body. I had dressed in black for the occasion, hoping it would help me blend in with the shadows, although the light caught on my golden hair and gave me away if anyone was truly looking close enough. I shiver as I`m greeted with the November chill, looking around to see if I could spot the twins. I frown when I don't see them, my heart sinking as I pause to listen for any sounds indicating I might get caught, but the silence is heavy. I take a few more hesitant steps forward, holding my breath for long enough to make my lungs ache, worry beginning to settle in the pit of my stomach. This was a mistake. A professor was bound to come for me at any time now. I turned around and clutched my chest, wondering how I'd make it back to my dorm if they had tipped me off, trying to think of a better route.  
“Hello Love,” A voice came from the darkness.  
I startle and whip around, my heart pounding as I try to locate the source of the voice. There was a shape in one of the archways overlooking the courtyard, hidden in the shadows, only visible when the torchlight flickered in a particular way. He stood and leaned against the cool stones, crossing his arms as he watched me. A Weasley twin.   
“She came,” He, Fred I think, said.  
“I told you she would,” Another voice appeared from the shadows.  
George steps into the dim light, a relaxed grin on his face as he looks at me. My shoulders are tense and my mind is trying to convince me to leave while I can, but my feet refuse to move.   
“So, you`re looking for a secret spot, huh?” Fred asks, twirling his hand in his fingers.  
I should have known they were a package deal, but somehow there had been a small hope within me that it would be just George. I wasn't quite sure why that felt safer; why he felt safer. I think it was that it would be easier to handle one of them should they turn on me, maybe, and George had helped me out before. That was before he knew who I was, though.  
“Yes,” I respond carefully. “Professor Lupin said you would know of something,”  
Telling them I got the information from Professor Lupin was revealing a playing card I`d rather keep hidden, but it also gave me a sense of security. I don`t know if he held any power over them at all, so it could be a false sense of security, but I thought I saw their expressions soften as I mention his name. A way in, perhaps, if I needed one.  
“Interesting,” Fred said, but George continued. “What kind of spot are you looking for? What level of hidden?”  
I cautiously look around, worried someone is listening or walking into our little meeting, but the twins look unbothered by this. They're not asking me why I`m looking for such a spot, which is odd. Sure, the question might come later, but I had expected it to come first. It was strange and suspicious, but the less information I was able to give, the better.  
“Uh, I need to be… able to do homework in peace. If the risk of getting caught is low that'd be great, and the Shrieking Shack is a hard no,” I say in a hushed whisper.  
Fred shrugs.  
“The Shrieking Shack is a great option, but okay,” He responds.  
He shares a look with his brother, and turns back to me after sharing a small nod with him.  
“We know a place,” Said George, then Fred jumped in. “Follow us,”  
I can't quite shake the feeling that I'm making a terrible mistake, but I find myself following them regardless, sneaking through the dark castle.

I should be worried, anxious, but I'm not. I'm uncharacteristically calm for being me, but I don`t let that concern me either. I follow the twins through another hallway, my step light, and we come to a halt before a portrait of a lady on a horse. She was wearing a burgundy dress that looked renaissance to me, her hair in a long braid down her back. She scoffed when we approached and rode off, disappearing from the portrait.  
“Here we go,” Fred says, pushing the portrait askew.  
There was nothing but stone similar to the rest of the wall behind it, and I frown. I was about to speak, but George holds his finger to his lips and winks at me, and I feel a strange rush of adrenaline going through me. Fred presses the palm of his hand against one of the stones, the one on the top right, and the wall folds away to reveal a narrow opening. We have to crawl through, and it takes some wiggling to get my hips through, but I eventually step out into darkness.  
“Lumos,” One of the twins muttered, and I followed their example.  
We`re standing in a passageway that I wouldn't have thought existed, the roof barely taller than the twins, but I could stand comfortably. It was wide enough for me to stretch out my arms fully, and I reckon we walked a few minutes before we were greeted by a mess of rocks, blocking the path further. There was a slashed up dummy tossed aside, probably too battered to work in dueling practice, but it would serve me well.  
“It's… grim, but it will do,” I mutter eventually.  
I wasn't lying, as the place was somewhat dusty and smelt of dirty lake-water, but it was perfect.  
“A carpet and a couple of pillows, maybe a nice painting, and it will look like home in no time,” George says with a grin.   
Despite my attempts to hold a cold demeanor, I laugh.   
“Besides, It's one of few passageways Filch doesn't know of, and I encourage you to keep it that way. You DON`T wanna get caught by him, it sucks,” Fred adds.  
I`m still smiling when I respond to him.  
“I have no intention of getting caught,” I say confidently.  
They both laugh.  
“You`re nothing like I thought you were, Jessica, and that's about the biggest compliment a Slytherin has ever drawn from me,” Fred notes.  
He's looking at me with crossed arms, and I can see that he's trying to be serious, but his eyes are glistening and his rosy lips are desperate to smile. He was a cocky bastard, I thought, but it was kinda hard to hate him.  
“Well, don`t pain yourself for me,” I shrug. “So, name your price,”  
“Price?” Says George.  
“Sometimes we like sharing our knowledge for free,” Fred added.  
“I doubt that,” I say coolly.  
They both shrug at the exact same time, and I notice they're wearing matching knit jumpers, except one has an G on it and the other an F. I`m not surprised by that.  
“There's no price,” George decides.  
I wonder whether it is pity then, whether he is thinking of having to rescue me out of the clutches of death eaters at the world cup. I don't trust people who are good without an obvious reason, especially not when they're rumored pranksters.  
“How can I trust you not to rat out my spot and get me caught?” I ask.  
“You can`t,'' Fred pauses. ``But that's the thrill of it, isn't it? The adventure,”  
I hate that I grin at that, that I do feel the thrill of it, the rush of adrenaline that's running through my body like liquid fire. It's a dangerous feeling, one I've tried to avoid my entire life. A feeling of magic and excitement and curiosity. These two were going to get me into trouble.


	19. Chapter 19

My body is drenched in sweat when I slip back into the Slytherin common room at 1 am, my arms aching and my fingers sore from clenching my wand. I felt empty, drained of magic, and while it was a strange sensation, it was a welcome change. It felt like control, rather than unpredictable might, and I liked it; needed it. I had a quick shower and slipped into my floral pajamas, tucking myself beneath the duvet and letting my head rest on the pillow. When I close my eyes my mind settles on thinking about the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students who had arrived, about Marcus Flint and the Weasley Twins, about homework and my friends, and I drift off to sleep moments later. When I wake up that morning I feel refreshed for the first time in months, and I hop out of bed and get dressed in my school uniform. The other`s have already left, so I finish up in the bathroom and head down to the dorm, surprised to find a small crowd gathered there. I recognize one of the people as a Durmstrang student immediately, as he wore a deep-red buttoned jacket with a thick belt around his waist, and brown pants and heavy boots. His hair is dark and messy and his eyes a stormy grey, and he's talking to Marcus and Blaise.  
"SMILES!" Marcus shouts, and I startle.  
Everyone turns to look at me, and I turn a shade of red not far off from the Durmstrang`s uniform. He had an apologetic smile on his face, at least, while Marcus looked unbothered, cold almost, but there was a glint in his eyes. I walk up to them, my hands fidgeting with my bag, avoiding their piercing gazes.  
"What?" I fail to sound confident, my voice coming out a bit shaky.  
"Party tomorrow night," He said in a grunt. "Come. It's gonna be good,"  
"Uh, okay, I guess...," I hesitate.  
He gives me a stern look, and I notice that he's cut his hair. It`s short now, and makes his features look sharper, his eyebrows heavy as he frowns.   
"Slytherin`s only, and Durmstrangs, so don't bring your friends," He decides.  
Draco sneers at me, but I ignore him.  
"I`ll see if I can make it," I shrug, brushing past them.  
"See you later," He calls after me.  
I let the door fall shut behind me, shaking my head. These slytherin`s were going to be the death of me. Still, spending some time with them could be a good move. I had to blend in with them to avoid drawing suspicion, and should the Weasley twins tell on me, they could be a useful alibi. I sigh and clutch my bag, wondering how I had grown so speculative. 

I wake up a little past 9 am after staying up late for my Astronomy class, humming a tune to myself as I get ready for Hogsmeade. I`m meeting the gang by the great hall in half an hour, so I put on some makeup and find a cute pink hoodie and a pair of light wash jeans. The weather is grey and dreadful, so wearing white sneakers might be a bad idea, but they go well so I decide to go for them anyways. When I look into the mirror I cannot tell that I'm a witch, as I look like a regular muggle going to a normal school. My hair is wavy as it falls down my back, the colour lightened by the sun, the makeup not quite covering the freckles on my nose and cheeks. I look nothing like the slytherin student I am, and while I feel a little deceitful, it's comforting. There is a vague sense of pride at that, one that I was just starting to accept, of being Slytherin while also being soft and kind and passionate, how slytherin meant so many good qualities that I was growing into. I feel like myself, and when I smile at myself in the mirror, there's a softness in my expression I worried I had lost. I take a deep breath and head to the great hall, linking arms with Amy and Joe as we make our way to Hogsmeade. We walk around Zonko's joke shop and toss confetti-filled candy at each other until rain falls, huddling together in the warmth of The Three Broomsticks and drinking butterbeers. My cheeks ache with laughter as Joe and Amy are telling stories, and Lyra throws in commentary. The happiness buzzing within lasts throughout the day as we run around chasing each other in the castle, not caring who is watching and throwing snarky remarks our way, somehow escaping any disapproving professors. When evening comes I settle in my favorite spot by the window in my dorm, reading a book I had brought from home. A while later my roommates barge in, glaring at me as they gather at the far corner. It doesn't take long until they strewn all their belongings out over the floor, and I suppressed an eye-roll. Right, the party, and they were of course going. I had no idea how they planned to keep the party a secret from Professor Snape, but perhaps he knew and Marcus got away with it because he was quidditch captain. I felt bad going to a party my friends couldn't go to, but they all had their own people to hang out with while my only plan was making unnecessary star charts. I had finished all of my homework, so I really didn't have anything to lose. I wait until the other girls are almost done getting read before I shower and get ready, avoiding them as much as possible. My hair is in soft curls by the time I'm done with it, and I'm wearing blush on my cheeks and a light brown eye-shadow. I finish off with a bit of gloss on my lips and go to rummage through my clothes, eventually pulling out a velvet skin-tight dress. I wasn't sure whether it was over the top, it was hard to tell when it came to these kinds of parties, but I liked the way it looked on so it would have to do. I find a pair of earrings that bring a bit of sparkle to the outfit and slip into a pair of heels, tucking my wand into my bra before giving myself a pep talk. I didn't have to be there for long, just making an appearance was a step in the right direction. No one would probably notice me being there, so I could just go to the common room, grab a drink, stand in the corner and smile politely as people spoke, before fleeing to safety again. That would be a job well done. I take a deep breath and then head to the party, my stomach fluttering.


	20. Chapter 20

There are more people than I had expected at the party, and music is playing loud enough that it should have attracted attention, but at this point I've accepted that Professor Snape didn't care. Most of the people there were out of their uniforms, even the ones I recognized as Durmstrang, one of them being a girl I`d seen with Viktor Krumm. He wasn't here though, I noticed as I did a loop of the common room. I had never spent much time here, had usually found it too busy and crowded to be able to study here, but the fireplace was nice. Pansy was giggling loudly and I spotted her with a bottle of fire-whisky, her arms draped about Draco`s neck. He looks bored out of his mind, but lightens up when Blaise and Theo start a conversation with him. I consider going up to Margot who's trailing after Blaise, but she`s got an army of people following her every move and that doesn't seem tempting. There`s a sense of panic rising within me that comes from being an outsider, the fear of people seeing me and knowing I don't belong, but I'm trying to assume people aren't paying attention to me. I see the Durmstrang boy in the far corner with someone I don`t recognize and I head over to him, deciding that I could go back to my dorm if I successfully held one conversation. He sees me approaching and smiles, nudging his friend.  
“Hey,” I say quietly.  
“Hello,” He responds. “I`m Sacha, he says, this is Einar,”   
His friend just nods in my general direction, but Sacha is polite enough to face me.  
“Jessica,” I reply, trying to think of something more to say. “How are you finding Hogwarts so far?”  
Sacha laughs.  
“Not as strict as ours, apparently! But interesting. It's a nice place, and warmer than our school, so that's something. I miss the Quidditch though,” He explains.  
“Oh, you play Quidditch?” I ask even though I`m not that interested.   
“Yeah. I`m not as big as our boy Viktor, but I'm a decent seeker. All good fun though. Do you play?”  
I shake my head.  
“Ah cool. It's not really my thing,” I say, looking for a way out of the conversation before I make it awkward.  
I don't have to try very hard though, because someone tosses an arm over my shoulder with such force that I stumble and have to catch my step. There's a strong scent of alcohol that hits me, mixed with a decadent aftershave, and I resist the urge to push him off.  
“Smiiiles,” Marcus drawls, and I can immediately tell he's drunk.  
He seems to realize this himself though, because he straightens up and visibly collects himself, but his arm remains around my shoulders.  
“Marcus,” I say slowly.  
He pushes a bottle into my hands and I frown as I study the glass container and the clear liquid it contains.  
“Drink,” He insists.  
“We brought it, it's our… school specialty,” Sacha offers.  
I slowly bring it to my lips and take a sip, making a face as the liquid burns my throat. It might not be poison, but it tastes pretty close. Regardless I take another swig of the bottle. If I had to put up with these people for a while, not being sober would be helpful. Marcus tugs at my arm and I reluctantly turn with him.  
“Come sit with us,” Marcus insists. “You too,”  
He indicates Sacha and the blond guy who's name I had already forgotten. Sacha follows us, but the other guy has disappeared when we take a seat, crowding the sofa`s and bean bags. I sigh in relief as Margot sits in a chair opposite from me, firmly planted on Blaise`s lap, but there nonetheless. Draco is sitting on the couch next to me, and I feel a bit awkward wedged in between them, and he doesn't seem to disagree. When Pansy returns from the bathroom she causes a scene because I've taken her seat, but Draco tells her to fuck off, so I guess he isn't too annoyed about sitting so close to me. Marcus has composed himself significantly and has one ankle resting on his knee, his arms crossed casually. I`m drinking out of the bottle to avoid having to talk, all too aware of how loudly the music was playing even though I couldn't locate where it was coming from, and there was so much going on around me. Part of me was beginning to regret coming out here, but another part was warmed by the alcohol and happy to have a sense of belonging, even if all I did was stay quiet but present.

Marcus leans forward and fistbumps Blaise, and they're both smirking as they look around at the rest of us.  
“How about a little game?” Blaise suggests.  
I've finished my first bottle of the poison-tasting liquid, and Sacha has handed me another that somehow tasted even worse but went down smoother. They`re all taking turns asking each other questions, but no one seems to register me being there and I slip by unnoticed, and I'm glad for it, because the questions are rather...interesting. The music gets louder and there's a song playing that I can't tell whether it is from the wizarding world or the muggle one, the tune catchy. Some of the students surrounding us are singing along and dancing, pressing against each other and swinging their arms in the air.  
“Jessica?” Someone brings my attention back to the present.  
Marcus frowns at me, but recovers quickly.  
“Your turn. Truth or dare?” He asks, earning some excited calls from the rest.  
“Uh,” I hesitate. “Dare, I guess,”  
I don't want to do a dare with them, but it sounded like a better option than telling them any of my truths. I hope I wouldn't regret it though, as Marcus looked awfully pleased with himself. I can't tell whether it's the excessive amount of alcohol he's had that`s made him this confident or if he is like this in general, maybe a combination of the two, but I find it both daunting and inviting.  
“I dare you to kiss me,” He says steadily.  
I can tell by the way his eyes darken that he's playing a game, one that he is used to, and I don't want to let him win. I don't know if I want to kiss him either, but I don't find the thought repulsive, so that`s somewhat of an indicator. I lean forward and try to ignore my pounding heart, clenching the bottle of alcohol in my hand as I press my lips to his. He opens up to my touch and invites me closer, and I indulge, his skin dry against mine, his lips persistent and his tongue dominant as it slips into my mouth. There`s confidence there, and I tried to match it, too focused on winning the game he was playing with me to pay attention to whether I was actually enjoying the kiss or not. I`m the first to pull back and I notice his fingers are tangled in my hair and the other hand is resting on my hip, pinching slightly when I blink at him. Right, confidence, I remember. I will my expression to be casual and cool, and he matches it, the only tell being a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  
“So,” He says, his voice slightly hoarse.  
“Truth or dare?” I ask him.  
“Dare,” He responds, his gaze still not leaving mine.  
“Finish that cup over there,” I nod to the table where I'd placed my other drink.  
He sends me an inquisitive look, but I lean back into the sofa and cross my arms, watching him calmly. I know that he was waiting for me to edge him on and take the game further, but he needed to know that I was not an easy prey to be playing games with. He brings the cup to his lips and downs it, pulling a face as he swallows it in a handful of gulps. His friends clap, and I keep studying him as the game continues. If he knew it was just water he didn't show it, continuing the game until early in the morning, his arm casually slung over my shoulder.


	21. Chapter 21

Professor Moody has us practice the cruciatus curse on bugs, which is both disgusting and disturbing and has left me feeling queasy. Amy was just as bothered by it as I was, exclaiming that it was an outrage to cover these kinds of topics and practice them on innocent creatures, right before the eyes of innocent souls. She wasn't that much of an innocent soul when her almost-girlfriend came over and they had a make-out session before me, and I didn't feel much sympathy for the spiders, but it was an interesting thing to cover in class. I had gotten more used to it by now, and although the nausea and memories still came, I felt more in control of them now. They haunted me at night, but not enough to cause me to lie awake sleepless for hours, and I could live with that. I had written a reply to Professor Lupin and although there wasn't much to respond to, his letter had me waiting. It had been a week, and I knew he was probably busy, but I worried my letter had been dull and impossible to respond to, and I don`t know why I so desperately needed to hear from him, but I did.  
“I wonder what the first task will be,” Amy says as we make our way through the hallway.  
I like how casually she says it, as if her mouth had not just been half-inhaled by another.  
“Me too. Can't you get anything out of Cedric?” I gently urge her.  
She smiles at that, nodding solemnly.  
“Bet,” She reassures me. “I`m on the case,”  
“Good,” I confirm. “Wanna go for a walk?”  
Amy turns to look out one of the large windows, raising an eyebrow at the rainfall. I was hopeful for snow, but she didn't seem to believe it was a possibility. She eventually shakes her head.  
“I have so much homework due tomorrow I haven't started on, and I don't think I can put it off any longer,” She sighs dramatically.  
“Want any help?” I offer.  
“Lyra`s helping me, but if you want to as well, I`d be happy for any assistance I can get. We're meeting at the library after dinner,” She says.  
I bite my lip.  
“Yeah… I might join you guys later. I think I need that walk,” I smile at her, wondering if I could sneak in some training later.  
Some fresh air was tempting though, and I slipped out of the main entrance after dinner to explore the grounds. The rain has stopped, but fog lingers around the castle, and I can barely distinguish the Durmstrang ship in the lake, it's red and gold flag the only thing visible. I climb the hill up to the owlery, but hear voices inside so make a turn to go elsewhere, my breath coming out ragged as I walk down. I make my way to the quidditch pitch for the lack of elsewhere to go, not quite daring to come near the forbidden forest now, my feet slipping in the mud. I don`t come down here a lot, not even during the quidditch season, but there's a peaceful quiet resting here that I needed right now. I loop around the arena once and then explore the nearby grounds, letting my mind wander.  
“Wait up!” Someone calls from behind me.  
I turn to find the Weasley twins hollering towards me from the arena and I roll my eyes. How is it possible that they always happen to be where I am? They`re dressed in tight brown pants and red and yellow sweaters though, splattered in mud from top to toe, their hair clinging to their forehead from sweat. I realize it probably makes more sense for them to be here rather than me, as there are goggles and gloves tucked in their front pockets, which looks silly but explains what they were doing out here; playing quidditch.  
“Didn`t know you were into quidditch,” Fred says, winking at me.  
There`s mud all over his face, but he doesn't seem to care.  
“I`m not,” I say coolly.  
“So you`ve come just to watch me? Sweet,” He grins and raises his hand to high five his brother, who hesitates for a moment, his gaze fleeting as it meets mine.  
I just stare at Fred, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. There's a slight tug at the back of my head, not nearly rough enough to hurt but enough for me to feel it, and I instinctively bring my hands to the spot. My fingers catch nothing but smooth hair that slips through them, and I blink as George holds up the black bow that had pinned my locks back moments before. He's grinning broadly, and I don't quite see the shyness he had shown me in the astronomy tower. Still, he's holding the bow so delicately, as if he worried it might fall apart.  
“A little souvenir,” He offers it back to me with a deliberate motion, his hand held out towards me.  
I reach out, but pause just short of our fingers touching, shaking my head. I can feel my face heat, but I make a low scoffing sound.  
“Keep it,” I say, letting my hand drop back down my side.  
He looks thrown off by that, his grin-lopsided as he seems to think about my reply, then carefully tucks it into his pocket. His lips part and I think he might speak, but there's a pause that drags on, until Fred nudges him.  
“Here, try this,” He insists.  
Fred holds out something that resembles a breath mint, but it's got a green tint to it that I do not trust. I had heard rumors about them testing different kinds of candy for their pranks, and I considered myself wise enough not to accept anything I had to offer.  
“I heard someone ended up at the hospital wing after explosive vomiting for six hours straight after trying one of your candies,” I point out, turning my back to them to continue my walk.  
I'm not surprised they're following me even if I`m headed away from the castle.  
“You`ve got to go through the bad to get to the good,” Fred replies, and George adds. “We can`t make decent products if we can`t test them,”  
“Find someone else to test them on,” I say, but I struggle to hold back a smile.  
Fred shrugs and tosses the breath mint back into the bag casually slung over his shoulder, his long legs able to keep up with me without a problem even though I`m walking as fast as possible.  
“How`s the homework spot?” George asks, watching me apprehensively.  
“It's not bad,” I clear my throat. “So, are you guys bummed out you didn't make it into the tournament?”  
I have to strain my neck to meet Fred`s gaze, and his eyes are mischievous and bright, and he has the audacity to ruffle my hair in response.  
“Obviously. Sitting on the sidelines isn't ideal, but it's pretty exciting anyways. Cedric is a good guy,” Fred says.  
“Harry joining is a twist we weren't expecting, but it's gonna make it interesting,” George shoots in.  
I nod.  
“Yeah. So, who are you rooting for?” I continue.  
I`m rather impressed with my own ability to converse at this point, and I'm surprised by how natural it feels.  
“We want to say Harry, because he's our brother's best friend, but the odds don`t look great…,” George explains.  
“He's just a kid, really. It's strange Dumbledore is allowing this,” I point out.  
“Yeah, it's a bit suspicious to be honest. I mean, he put in place an age line to protect younger students from death tasks, and then Harry`s name somehow ended up in the Goblet, and like bets on that he didn't do it himself because he isn't dumb enough to do so nor smart enough to figure out how to trick it, and then Dumbledore somehow allows him to compete… Under the excuse that the Goblet has chosen and tradition and blabla, but it honestly seems a bit bullshit to me,” Fred is talking so fast I have to stop walking to be able to listen properly.  
“Exactly. It's messed up. I don`t know him, but it seems really dangerous, and he's only 14. Like I know Cedric is skillful and smart, and Fleur seems madly talented and Viktor… I mean I know nothing about him but he looks strong at least,” I say thoughtfully, letting my words come out freely.  
“Viktor might not be as smart as the other two, but yeah, he has strength, and I have a feeling his headmaster is an interesting guy that will do anything for his student to win,” George adds.  
It seems I wasn't the only one who thought he was a creepy guy, but it was worth investigating why they thought so.  
“What do you mean by interesting?” I try to play dumb, schooling my face into a frown.  
“Don't you know?” Fred sounds genuinely shocked by this. “He used to be a Death Eater. Claims to have had his redemption and all, but once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater, right?”  
My stomach is in knots and I fear I might be sick, my hands balling into fists so hard my palms turn sweaty. I don't know whether Fred is surprised I don't know because it's common knowledge or because I'm a slytherin, but I'm more concerned about what this means to me. Hogwarts was supposed to be safe. That was the promise. Yet Death Eaters were invited to our school as our guest, and that did not make it feel like a safe space. He had to have known my parents, and I don't think he's recognized me yet, but he's bound to. My name is all over the school records, and all it takes is for him to overhear a teacher or a student trying to get my attention by using my surname, and he`ll know. I tried so hard to stay under the radar, but it was proving to be difficult when Death Eaters were walking the school grounds. Besides, Dumbledore seemed to be friends with him, which was odd. Did that mean Dumbledore tried to keep his friends close but his enemies closer, or could I not trust Dumbledore? Both were viable options, and my gut could not decide. It seemed so sketchy to me for Dumbledore to welcome the other headmaster with open hands and shake his hand with fondness, for them to judge the same competition which probably meant a lot of time together. I couldn't trust Dumbledore, not with this knowledge. The twins were right, once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to wish you all a very Merry Christmas! I hope that despite everything being different you have a lovely few days.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and for the comments, they mean the world to me! I can`t quite believe I`ve reached 22 chapters already, but I`m inspired to continue so there will be more out. It might be a little slower for a few days, but I`m writing and editing new chapters as fast as possible :) 
> 
> Lots of love
> 
> My Wildest Words

Students have gathered in the great hall for a study session, and it's unusually full as all years crowd the tables and professors walk back and forth to check up on them. I`m sitting with Lyra and Joe, and I don`t think anyone has noticed yet, because I haven't been told off so far. We all had a free period, except Amy, and spent the time working through homework. Lyra and I at least, as Joe was eager to join in the gossiping the others were doing. November 24th was approaching rapidly, which meant the very first task in the Triwizard Tournament, and the excitement was high. Everyone was discussing what the first task could be and the turn of events with there being four competitors, and you couldn't walk down a hallway without being caught up in discussions. The energy was as high as everywhere else in the common room and in my dorm, and after getting in a session of spellwork in the hallway I had begun to call my own I had come up to the astronomy tower. I had just finished my star chart and wasn't ready to leave just yet, so I read one of the books I had brought from home. It was an old one I had found in my grandparents bookshelves, a classic fairy tale from before my time, but it was one I always enjoyed. I had put on my headphones and was listening to a soft pop song that I was humming along too, happy to be in my own space. I should have known it wouldn't have lasted long though, because this year was somehow notorious for disturbances so far, especially ones that had red hair and were tall and loud. Fred was the first one to sit down next to me, and George took the seat he had done last time, his legs somehow even closer to mine now, the floor cool beneath us. I can't help but smile when I look up, but I try to cover it up with my book.  
"Well hello," They say at the same time.  
"Are you guys following me, or do you just happen to be where I am at the same time?" I asked them.  
My gaze meets George`s, and my heart flutters as he holds it`s, his eyes a beautiful shade of brown with a soft expression in them, the light making them look golden. His lips twitch and he finally drops his gaze when Fred speaks, and both George and I seem to realize his twin has a mischievous expression on his face.  
"I said that it seems to be a wonderful coincidence, but since no one seems to be listening...," He gives me a pointed look first, then grins at his twin.  
I roll my eyes, but that doesn't stop the blush from coloring my cheeks.  
"What is this coincidence for then?" I ask him, narrowing my eyes at him.  
He shrugs and grins at me, dragging his fingers through his hair.  
“Do you like excitement, Jessica? Adventure?” Fred asks.  
It sounds like a trap, like I'm about to fall victim to a wicked prank he's about to pull, and I curse myself for being intrigued. I was beginning to understand why they were so popular. They were kind of addictive. It was like playing with fire, where you knew you were about to get burned, yet you couldn't stop hovering your finger above the flickering flame. I knew I was going to go up in flames, but somehow, I couldn't resist. Still, I must. I shake my blond locks over my shoulder and raise my brow at him.  
“Why do you keep seeking me out to ask… those kinds of questions. Like. Everyone else loves you guys. You have plenty of friends and fangirls. Go ask them. Bye,” I say, giving them a dismissive wave.  
“We think you`re fun,” Fred shrugs casually, but I can see the twinkle in his eye. George speaks after him. “Fun to be around,”  
“I`m many things, but fun is not one of them,” I fix them both with a glare, not surprised when they both seem unbothered.  
I clutch my book to my chest, trying to settle my anxiety that was threatening to cause an uproar.   
“But you are,” Says George, and I'm taken aback when he continues speaking. “And you`re nice, and interesting, and smart,”  
Interesting, he's speaking in whole sentences even with his brother there. To me it seems like Fred is the louder one, a little more forward and fast-paced, and while George fills him in nicely, there is something different about him that sets him apart. I can't quite put my finger on what though.  
“You don`t know me,'' I don't intend to sound as cool as I do. “Besides, you must know this sound awfully suspicious. Seeking out a Slytherin to hang out, and then complimenting her, it`s fucking suspicious. It seems like a fucked up version of bullying,”  
“That's not our intention at all,” George says, his voice husky and so soft that I don`t know whether my heartbeat has increased significantly or stopped altogether.  
It takes a deep breath and my nails digging into my palm to calm myself down from the feelings fluttering in my stomach.   
“We mean it. If you want us to bugger off, then fine, we won't bother you no more. But first, take us up on an offer,” Fred urges, winking at me.  
I don`t know how I know I`m going to say yes, but I do.  
“Okay, try me,” I shrug.  
“Dragons,” Fred erupts.  
“What?” He seems too excited to have shouted out a random word.  
“Do you want to see some dragons? They`re captive, so it's almost totally safe. It has to remain a secret though,” George explains.  
His fingers are fidgeting with the hem of his school jumper, his leg bouncing up and down steadily, but he holds my gaze without hesitation now. There's something in them that doesn't reveal whether it's a dare or an invitation, or maybe it's something in between.  
“Why do you have access to captive dragons?” I ask with a raised brow, but I can't help but be intrigued.  
Fred leans over and ruffles my hair and I huff in response, but I'm smiling when I shake him off.  
“It wouldn't be a secret if we showed you all our playing cards,” Fred winks at me. “Maybe that's the catch you`re expecting to come from us; you have to come without knowing what you are walking into,”  
“Fun,” I mean to sound sarcastic, but I don't think it comes across.  
They both grin at me, and I realize that they can see right through my facade. They haven't let my cool exterior scare them off, nor my rejective nature, and I'm beginning to think it's because they know it's not real. It's a strange feeling having someone read you like an open book, and I wonder how they`ve managed. Amy did, but apart from her everyone had to do a bit of work getting to know me before cutting through the walls I put up. Amy was so impossibly and overwhelmingly nice since we started fourth year and she discovered my existence by finding me on top of the roof in the pouring rain, and there was no shaking her off after that. It wasn't out of sympathy with her, not even in those early days. Somehow she had a genuine interest in getting to know me, and actually liked me after that first meeting, and there was no pretense with her. Lyra and Joe warmed up quickly, but I think giving more of myself became easier when Amy was around, especially back then when I had shut the entire world out. To have two notorious pranksters do the same with little effort was suspicious and I knew I should be careful, but I find myself not wanting to. I'm completely ready to go up in flames if whatever this is leads to it.


	23. Chapter 23

Fred and George have spent the past half hour explaining one of their newest inventions to me, and at this point I think I have to accept there is a… friendship forming between us. There`s no shaking them, and they're surprisingly fun to be around. There are never any awkward silences, and they don't seem to run out of things to talk about. Being around them is comfortable, I find, but it doesn't scare me. I`m trying to explain the way to possibly make a counter curse for a candy that made people breathe fire, but Fred was too fascinated by the fire part of it to actually be listening.  
“Anyways, we should be off. Lots to do, lots to do,” Fred suddenly erupts. “But the offer stands with the dragons. Tomorrow at dusk,”  
“I`ll catch up with you in a bit. I need to finish my star chart,” George responds before I can.  
He glances up at Fred, and I wonder if they're able to communicate just like that, whether they`re so connected they hardly need a shared look to speak an entire conversation. Fred nods after a little while, giving us a salute before rushing down the stairs. His footsteps fade eventually, and he leaves me and George sitting in silence. He's taken up his star chart and a quill, but he's looking out over the school grounds, and I haven't seen him make any adjustments just yet. He looks so peaceful, and to me it seems he's genuinely looking at the starry night sky; caught up in it, the dim light illuminating his face, his eyes golden and his hair a fiery red. He catches me staring and gives me a shy smile. I feel the blush appear and I clear my throat.  
“Want help with your star chart?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.  
This draws his attention away from the world outside and he nods, scooting closer to show me what he had done. He had barely started, I notice, and it's messy and imprecise, and the notes he has scribbled down on Jupiter's moons are written down in haste.  
“Okay…,” I say hesitantly.  
George`s eyes are apologetic as he meets mine.  
“I… haven't made much progress on it. I kinda forget about it until today,” He mutters.  
It's strange to see him so shy and quiet when he was otherwise loud and full of banter and life, but I kinda liked this side of him. It felt… safe, being here with him, way up here. I stand and motion for him to follow me to the telescope I`d set up earlier.  
“That's okay, we can finish it together,” I assure him, kneeling before the telescope.  
He joined me, and I let myself be in awe of the fact that he was still over a head taller than me in this position, laying out his near-empty chart and the piece parchment of parchment that was supposed to resemble an essay out before us.  
“Here, that is Jupiter right there,” I explain, and he leans in to look through the telescope.  
His breathing is steady next to me, his chest heaving ever so slightly, and I avert my eyes back to the sky.  
“So surrounding it are its moons?” George asks. “I know Europa and lo and Callisto,”  
He adjusts the telescope to find them, his long fingers wrapped around the metal, his movements surprisingly delicate as he handles the device. He plots in Europa correctly, and then lo, but hesitates as he's about to find Callisto`s position on the chart. His quill hovers above the spot, only an inch from being correct, and I smile at him. Instinctively I lean over and place my hand above his, guiding him to the right before leading his hand towards the chart.  
“There,” I whisper, my heart suddenly racing.  
“Ah, thanks. Is that all the moons then? Europa is the icy one, right, and lo one with the volcanoes?” He says, his voice a bit shaky to my ears.  
“You`re right about that, you can include that in your essay,” I nod, and he positively beams at me, making my stomach flutter. “But Jupiter actually has 79 moons, but only 53 are named,”  
“That's a whole lot of moons to write about,” He sighs dramatically, but he's checking the telescope again and jotting down notes as I speak.  
“Ganymede is the largest moon in the solar system, so I bet professor Sinistra will give out bonus points if you know that, and for referring to The Galilean Satellites. They are Jupiter's four largest moons,” I`m vaguely aware of how stupid I must look to him knowing all of this off the top of my head, but I can`t help myself.  
He's watching me with an inquisitive expression on his face, and his writing is even messier now that he isn't paying attention, but I think it looks pretty regardless.  
“You know a lot about this,” he says.  
I don`t know why I had expected him to make fun of me, but the way he said it wasn't a mockery, it was a gentle observation. The defiance I had felt building up dropped instantly, and I shrug.  
“It's my favorite subject,” I reply. “I quite like coming out here and studying stars and planets and moons, I find it interesting,”  
He hums softly.  
“Why is it? Your favorite subject, I mean,” Again, there was not a hint of judgement or mockery in his tone.  
I sigh dreamily and lean over the railing, putting my weight on my arms as I gaze up at the sky.  
“I don't know. I guess I just like knowing there is an infinity of space out there, things that are bright and beautiful and far beyond our imagination and understanding, and getting to investigate planets and stars and moons and the sun is like getting to dive into magic. Or, I guess, most of the people here have grown up with magic around them, but for me growing up who didn't have that, this normality was my magic. I like that it is infinite, endless, that I can know everything yet know nothing at all,” I`m rambling now, but I don't even worry about being ashamed as the happiness settles within me.  
He observes me for a while, and the silence stretches on, but it's comfortable, a space that is new and unexplored but safe.  
“You are magic,” He says it thoughtfully, softly, kindly.  
It takes me a moment to realize he doesn't mean it in the literal manner, that he isn't referring to the fact that I'm a witch. It takes about the same amount of time for him to realize what he just said, and his face goes about the same shade as his hair. He scratches the back of his neck.  
“I like that explanation,” He finally decides. “It's not so bad, I think, it's just all the finicking around, but you`re making it fun,”  
I`m definitely blushing now, and my words come out in a stutter. I drop my gaze to the floor, but I can't hold back the smile.  
“Ah, uh, that's good. So, shall we continue on the essay?” I ask him.  
He nods eagerly, and we work for a little while before he suddenly nudges me and motions towards the telescope.  
“What's your favorite moon?” George asks me.  
“Why?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.  
He chuckles.  
“Because I'm curious,” He replies.  
“Elara,”  
“Never heard of it. Why?”  
“It's small, or I guess that's relative and maybe that's why I like it. It's seemingly insignificant and unimportant, but then it's not, because it's one of Jupiter's named moons, but still it`s a part of the solar system and therefore it matters so much in its irrelevance and smallness, and yeah. I think it's beautiful,” I explain.  
He's smiling at me with such warmth it takes my breath away.  
“Show me,” He asks softly.  
I adjust the telescope and he leans in eagerly, letting me rant about moons and its properties for two hours, and we don't notice that it's past midnight as George finishes his essay and chart. We`re laughing and talking and doing work at the same time, and I don't know why I suddenly feel so light-headed and happy.


	24. Chapter 24

The day before the first task in the Triwizard Tournament I find myself standing in the shadows of the Forbidden Forest, just beyond the border leading to the school grounds, anxiously waiting at dusk. I had traded out my school uniform for a pair of light wash jeans and a mint hoodie, my jacket fluffy and white, and while no one at first glance would suspect I was a Slytherin, which meant I wouldn't lose house points within two seconds, I stood out in the dark. I should have thought that one through, but it's too late to realize now. Besides, this was the best casual outfit I could come up with in 24 hours. That in itself had me worried I had officially gone insane, as wearing my best outfit, without seeming I tried to hard of course, to get caught wandering where I shouldn't be because of two pranksters who had laid out a trap for me was plain stupid. At this point I probably deserved to get caught red-handed, and I vaguely remember one of the first things Dumbledore had said to me. It seemed long ago now, but it was only 3 years, maybe a little longer, back when he came to give me my letter in the home of my grandparents. I was so quiet back then, so frightened of myself and the world, I had all this unexplainable energy within me that I only learned was magic 11 years later. I had known of it, I guess, remembered my childhood and my parents and the magic around me, but I wasn't allowed to speak of it, was deemed insane when I remembered, and I think I came to believe it. Until Dumbledore showed up in his funny robes and pointed hat and absurdly long beard.   
“There is one thing you must do, Jessica, and that is to keep your head down. There is a target on your back, and there will always be. Blend in, do not stand out,” He had said in a grumbly, even voice, and then he knelt down before me.  
I was trembling, my eyes-wide, my hair trimmed just past my shoulders and neatly combed. I had just stared at him in response, wondering whether I had gone mad or whether my grandparents had sent a madman my way to test me.  
“You can do that right, Jessica? In time you will learn more, but not now,” He shook his head, and I don't think he expected a response from me. “And you mustn't speak of your parents. Should someone recognize your surname, pretend you know nothing. Keep your head down, and know that the less you share about who you are, the better,”  
And then he had simply pushed my acceptance letter into my shaking hands and left. Grandma had gotten worse then, had gotten more frequent episodes of zoning out, and grandpa had forbidden me to ever speak of my parents, or my brother. There was no mourning them, no mourning him. It had taken months for Professor Dumbledore to explain, and even then he only gave information in fragments. I guess it made pretending I knew nothing easy, though, because I didn't know. But not knowing was frightening, especially when others knew.  
“Daydreaming, are we?” I know it's Fred without turning around, and know George is the one to continue the sentence. “But you`re here,”  
I smile at the ground, but bite it back before I turn around to face me. I cross my arms and regard them, just as they regard me, and we stand there for a moment. They`re wearing matching grey jackets and black jeans, with boots to match, and the only pop of colour comes from their red and gold scarves.  
“You promised me dragons,” I note.  
Fred salutes me and I can't help but laugh, especially not when both twins bow deeply.  
“Follow us,” They say.  
Fred takes the lead and George falls into step with me, gently touching my elbow to lead me away from treacherous branches.  
“A questionable incognito outfit, but it is adorable,” He says softly.  
I glance over at him, surprised he's noticed, wondering if I can see the hint of a blush on his cheeks. I can't quite see in the dark, and before I can make up my mind he`s motioned for me to stop, and Fred's looking at me with his finger pressed to his lips. I frown but comply, treading carefully as we sneak through the bushes. Fred waves me over and I see light up ahead, torches lit, and hear talking and rustling. I spotted the people first, their heavy cloaks and boots thumping through the mud, noticing the one coming towards us had the same fiery red hair as the twins. Behind him there were large creatures kept on chains, their wings flaring out as flames wrapped around them. They had been right about the dragons. There were four of them, all with different appearances and shapes and sizes, but powerful creatures nonetheless.   
“Fred, George, getting others in trouble as usual, I see,” The red-haired stranger says.  
Fred and George chuckle and pull him in for a one-armed hug, and I know instantly they must be brothers. He's handsome, the stranger, not in the way the twins were, but tall and broad-shouldered and rugged, a scar across his face and another running along his jawline, his stubble looking as if it weren't trimmed in a few days. He wore a similar outfit to the others who were tending to the dragons, a heavy leather cloak in a deep burgundy and skin-tight pants with boots, his shirt revealing a tattooed chest. He looked to be several years older than the twins.  
“Who`s this you got with you this time?” The stranger asks, winking at me.  
He's got the same kind of charm as his brothers, apparently, but I find myself blushing just the same. George steps aside and takes hold of my elbow, pulling me next to him.  
“This is Jessica,” He says and smiles gently at me. “Jessica, this is Charlie, our brother,”  
“Our least attractive brother, I must point out,” Fred adds and jabs me in the side.  
I don`t know whether there is a magical potion that lets Fred read minds for him to know I was thinking about how attractive Charlie was. He certainly wasn't the least attractive brother. The twins had a different kind of charm about them, but Charlie was the kind of guy you'd run into in a bar and who you would dream about after hooking up with once. Okay, I had to stop thinking about him like that.   
“A girlfriend then?” Charlie asks, shaking my hand. “Must be George, you look too sweet to be with Fred,”  
“Hey!” Fred exclaims, giving the back of his brother`s head a nudge.  
Charlie just grins at him.  
“Oh, no, they`re.. We`re… just…,” I trail off, my throat tightening.  
“Friends,” George finishes, then leans in to whisper in my ear. “It's okay, you can say it,”  
I push him away, but my hands linger on his chest a moment longer than necessarily, his warm breath against my neck sending shivers down my spine.  
“Charlie`s a dragonologist. Basically a dragon trainer. I gotta give it to him that it's pretty cool, you know, since he hasn't got the looks,” Fred shoots in.  
I step away from George a little too quickly, my head spinning at the sudden panic. I focus my attention on Fred, who looks at me knowingly. I glare on him.  
“They`re cool,” I say, nodding towards the dragons.  
One of them is the most beautiful shade of green and seems fairly calm compared to the others, while one has spikes sticking out over his entire neck and is roaring and slamming his tail into the ground.   
“The Hungarian Horntail is the feisty one, and the green one is a common welsh green, and there's the Chinese fireball,” He walks a safe distance from them, and I follow along. “And the Swedish short-snout,”  
“What are they doing on school grounds?” I ask carefully, watching as the horntail spews fire at one of the caretakers.  
“Can you keep a secret?” Fred asks me smugly.  
“I keep a lot of secrets,” I reply without thinking.  
He only grins in response, and doesn't seem to be reading too much into it.  
“They`re the first task in the triwizard tournament,”  
I blink slowly, then turn my attention back to the dragons. The wizarding world was truly strange to put children at the risk of such vicious creatures, I thought, and once again I found myself glad to be slipping under the radar. I was glad the twins had failed in tricking the goblet of fire too, because fighting dragons seemed like an awfully big risk to take, a dangerous one.


	25. Chapter 25

The entire school is excited as the 24th of November comes around, and I link arms with Joe and Amy as we follow the stream of students heading down to the arena. I haven't told them about the first task being dragons yet, as I had to make good on my promise, but it was getting difficult to keep to myself as everyone was discussing the possibilities. Lyra had written an entire list of options that she was currently naming and thoroughly discussing for the second time today, and Joe had counter suggestions for each point. We enter the stadium and head over to a row of empty seats, claiming them as ours. Someone bumps into me and I look up to find Marcus stepping aside to let his group pass, lingering by me.  
“Smiles,” He says in that drawl of his. “How nice to see you here,”  
“Marcus,” I respond in a whisper, aware of the gazes of curious bystanders.  
My friends were closeby, certainly listening in on our conversation, and it was throwing me off. I hadn't told them about the party with Marcus, nor the kiss, and now I felt guilty about it, but I could predict the lecture I would get from them. I knew they were right, but they didn't see what I saw in him. Even I saw it only here and there when he dropped his guard.  
“Come sit with us,” He says, placing a hand on my hip.  
His thumb finds the bare skin just above my jeans and I shiver as he caresses it, stepping closer to me. His breath ghosts over my skin and my face feels hot, and I still don`t know whether I want to step closer or move back. I can never tell with him. I clear my throat.  
“I`m sitting with my friends,” I mutter.  
His brows furrow and his confident expression turns into a glare, but he bites it back and forces a grimace-like smile.  
“Your choice, Smiles,” He spits, then makes a visible effort to take the edge off his tone. “I'll speak to you after this… amusement, okay,”  
I just nod, nailed to the ground until he drops his hand and the spot where his touch was turns cold. He disappears into the crowd, leaving me more confused than ever, and I turn around to see that Lyra, Amy and Joe were watching me. I ignore them and take a seat, but they won't give up that easily. I sigh dramatically, glancing at them.  
“What?” I say, feeling as if I`m walking into a trap.  
“What the fuck is going on with you and Marcus???” Joe exclaims, and I'm quick to hush him.  
“I`ll tell you later,” I urge, looking around in panic as curious students are listening in.   
“Jess, you cannot have a thing with Marcus. He is an asshole,” Lyra hisses at me.  
I wave my hand dismissively.  
“I don't have a thing, but seriously, I`ll tell you later,” I insist.  
I`m about to say something more when I spot two tall gingers heading my way, carrying some sort of small suitcase and shouting something I couldn't make out. George spots me and shouts my name, which doesn`t help with the questioning looks from my friends. I wave as George tugs his brother`s sleeve and they come towards me. They`re both grinning from ear to ear, and I see they're taking bets for who's going to win the first task.  
“So, Jess, who are you placing your bets on then?” Fred asks me, throwing a hand around my shoulder.  
George`s gaze lingers on me, and I smile softly at him, which he mirrors. I take a moment to think of what to reply, then decide on something not so hostile.  
“Fleur Delacour, of course, because girls support girls,” I reply, tossing in some coins.  
“Good choice,” George comments, his smile broadening. “What about you guys, btw?”  
Fred steps in before my friends can reply.  
“I`m Fred, btw, and this is George, Weasley of course. You are Jess`s friends, right? You two play Quidditch, I`ve seen you around,'' He nods at Joe and Amy.  
“I`m Amy, yes, and this is Joe. I play for Hufflepuff and he for Ravenclaw,” Amy says, and Lyra jumps in. “Lyra. I don`t play quidditch, but they still keep me around,”  
“Nice to meet you all,” George saids.  
“We`ll bet on Fleur too,” Lyra decides.  
“Nice,” Fred says. “See you guys around,”  
George brushes past me and gives my friends a little wave.  
“See you around, Jess,” He mutters.  
My friends are staring at me again, and I place my hands on my hips, raising an eyebrow.  
“You`re full of surprises, Jess, and you have a lot of explaining to do,” Joe mutters as we sit down and the first dragon is brought out into the arena.

My throat is aching from cheering so much when the task draws to an end, and I can't help but smile from ear to ear as my friends and I follow the stream of people out of the arena. It was exciting to watch the competitors solve the dragon problem differently, and Harry Potter had made quite a show out of it, and I`m pretty sure I had cheered equally for all.  
“Okay, that was so good!” Amy squeals, earning some stares from bystanders.  
I flinch, but my smile barely falters.  
“So exciting. I can't believe how well Harry held up, being 14 and all. I wouldn't have a clue how to battle a dragon,” I say.  
“Nonsense, you'd take out a dragon in a heartbeat,” Joe skipped in, throwing his arm around my shoulder and nearly knocking me over.  
Lyra sends us a stern look, huddling up in her ravenclaw scarf and gloves.  
“It wasn't battling dragons, they weren't hurt in the process. But yes, it was exciting,” She lets out a breath, her long hair damp from the previous drizzle. “I wonder what the next task will be,”   
“The egg must be a clue, right?” I hum thoughtfully.  
“Ugh yes, for sure, but what does it mean? Are they gonna battle some kind of bird-laying egg next? What could it be?” Joe exclaims.  
Amy and I laugh, and Lyra joins in eventually. She's about to say something, but we`re interrupted by a shout from up ahead. Marcus and his quidditch team are blocking the pathway, and to my horror their attention is on us, or me I suppose, and him approaching me draws more attention. There's a glow to his otherwise dull skin, and while I suspect it may come from the weather it looks good on him, his hair swept aside and his eyes daring and bold, dangerous but enchanting. He has a confident aura that I want to hate, but I still stand before him speechless, uncertain of where to rest my eyes as he throws a look back at his friends before speaking.  
“Afterparty in the common room tonight. Join me, will you?” He asks, and I can't tell whether it is a genuine question or a command.  
I glance back at my friends, who are keeping a safe distance between us. Amy looks somewhere between excited and confused, while Joe looks amused, and Lyra looks both alarmed and appalled. I waited a few seconds for her to speak up, but she chose a bad time to remain quiet. I wasn't sure what I was expecting from her either, to be fair, so I just shrug.  
“I guess,” I say quietly.  
The corner of Marcus lips twitched, and I thought he might smile, but his face settled for an arrogant smirk instead.  
“Fantastic,” He decides, then glances over at my friends and nods towards them dismissively. “Bring them if you must,”  
“Uh, yeah, okay,” I mutter, glancing at Lyra for support.  
She finally seems to realize I need her to back me up and she clears her throat, taking a step forth. She feigns a bored expression and looks Marcus up and down, and I'm surprised when he stands his ground and the only thing showing on his face is annoyance.  
“Maybe,” Lyra decides, saying the word slowly, as if it's taking a great deal out of her.  
Marcus glares at her, and I let my gaze travel back and forth between, trying to find a way to cut through the tension. Marcus leans over and tugs at one of my curls that had escaped it`s confinement, his smile softening ever so slightly, before he stepped back.  
“Whatever,” He says and turns his back towards us, marching back to his friends.  
It only takes a moment for them to swallow him in their circle, and I can hear the faint sound of laughter, and butterflies flutter in my stomach. My heart is pounding and my head spinning, and I'm trying to make sense of it all, to understand. Had Lyra just lost me my invitation? But him willing to let my friends come along must be a sign he was genuinely interested in me, as I knew he didn't like them, and that he would have to take quite a lot of crap from others from it. What did it all mean? Was this interest not just something to cure his boredom? Was that not thoughtful, to invite them knowing I'd come if they were welcome? I frown, trying to make sense of it all the entire way back to the castle.


	26. Chapter 26

Lyra and I have just left the library after celebrating the first task being successful by studying, and we were still discussing our latest Ancient Runes lesson when she stops in her tracks. She stands there for a moment, her bushy brows furrowed, her lip worried between her teeth, and she covers her stalling by tying her shoelace. I wait her out, knowing that it usually works best with her.  
“Hey Jess…,” She says carefully, and my heart drops. “I…,”  
She looks down at the floor, her hand fidgeting with her wand, and I can tell that she's trying not to be as straightforward as she can be. I sigh and reach out a hand to help her up, bumping my hips into her softly. She laughs, but the nervous energy lingers around her. I take a deep breath, willing myself to have courage.  
“You`re not going to the party, are you?” I say carefully, trying not to sound judgemental.  
“I mean… If you need me there, or us, we`ll go, but… we`re not that welcome, you know. It was a backhanded invitation, and I… I don`t think I can expose myself for the… bullying we get from some of that group,” She tries.  
I feel sick, but I nod nonetheless.  
“I understand. I really do, Lyra. And I'm glad you tell me the truth,” I reply, giving her hip a soft squeeze.  
She smiles gently.  
“But?” She urges.  
“There`s no but,” I say thoughtfully. “Or, I guess. I know you don't like Marcus, and that you question his intentions and him as a person, but… I don't know Lyra,”  
She raises an eyebrow at me, but she has the decency to not look as judgemental as I had expected. There`s something else there, a question, and I understand why she would be wondering why I`d be drawn to him. I was asking myself the same thing, after all.  
“But you like him?” Lyra asks gently.  
I shrug.  
“I don't know. Maybe. A little. Kind of? It's fucked up, I know, but… I just want to be normal, you know. Flirt with hot guys, especially a quidditch captain who has taken a sudden interest in me. I want to drink and not worry about everything all the fucking time, and I want to socialize without worrying what everyone is thinking about me. It becomes easier by his side, I`ve noticed, and I don`t know, I find him interesting,” I explain.  
We pause as we reach the staircase that will lead Lyra up to her dorm, but she is hesitant and watches me. I wonder what she's thinking, wonder how hard it is for her to contain all the lectures she`s preparing in her head. I wonder whether I want one now or not, half hoping she'd come up with one to talk sense into me, half hoping she wouldn`t.   
“Okay,” She says eventually. “If that's how you feel, I`ll support it. But just be careful, okay?”  
I nod. People had been telling me to be careful my entire life. I was good at it. But maybe I didn't want to be careful anymore.

The torches flicker as I approach the common room, and I can sense a presence before I hear the footsteps. My fingers twitch and I feel for my wand, which is safely tucked into my skirt, before turning around. I let out a sigh of relief as I spot two familiar figures leaning against the wall, smirks on their faces. I walk up to them, throwing a longing look at the entrance. Being this tired is not a good sign when I have a party to attend later, but I'm hoping some alcohol will help wake me up.  
“Sneaking up on me, are you?” I say teasingly, holding Fred`s gaze daringly.  
He reaches out to me and shoves my shoulder, but he does it so gently I merely need to take a step backwards to balance myself. I find myself laughing, rubbing my eyes as if it were to remove the sleepiness.  
“Always,” George responds, and my gaze is drawn to him.  
He smiles weakly, and I notice they're wearing matching knitted jumpers, one with an F on it and the other with a G, which is oddly charming.  
“I like your jumpers,” I note quietly, cringing as my voice echoes through the hallway.  
I don`t know who thought it was a good idea to build a common room beneath the lake. The sound traveled in strange, amplified ways, which meant talking was a chore and sneaking anywhere was incredibly challenging.  
“Mum knits them,” Fred says, his eyebrows rising as he glances at his brother. “Glad you like them,”  
“Very glad,” Says George. “Anyways, we're throwing a party tonight. Want to come?”   
I blink slowly, feeling a rush of nausea that I recognize as anxiety.  
“Uh,” I stutter, clearing my throat to speak again, but no words come out.  
George just looks at me patiently as I fumble, and I distract myself by twirling my hair around my finger, which doesn`t work nearly as well as I had hoped. My chest felt tight, and even though I could physically breathe clearly, my lungs were being constricted. Just a few more seconds and I`d become dizzy, and the room would go blurry, and I`d feel like I have to throw up, and I just might…  
“It's in our common room, so you'd get to see it. Fun times!” George interrupts my train of thoughts, his tone insisting but kind. “We don't really operate by set times, but if you want a pro tip, come after 11, then you're sure not to be one of the first but not one of those late people either,”  
I smile and let out something that I think is trying to be a giggle but sounds like a cough.  
“Uh, yeah, uhm, that sounds fun actually, but I already accepted another invitation,” I manage to get out.  
“I heard about the rival party, yes. Probably gonna be good with the Durmstrangs, but ours is better,” Fred replies, winking at me.  
“Another time?” I prompt softly. “It seems like you throw quite a few parties, so it probably won't be long until next time,”  
They grin at me, and Fred throws his arm around my shoulder and ruffles my hair, holding me close. I laugh, pushing at his side until I find the spot where he is ticklish and he lets go with a yelp.  
“Fine, fine,” Fred says, holding up your hands.  
“But actually… If you run into them, you could invite my friends,” I begin thoughtfully. “I, uh, invited them to mine, and they were okay to come, but… Yeah, if that would be okay and if you see them,”  
George meets my gaze, his eyes brown with a hint of gold and still impossibly bright, and he nods.  
“We`ll find them,” He says slowly, and then adds. “And take good care of them,”  
He opens his mouth and closes it again, studying my expression for a moment before glancing away, and I feel as if he might say something, but I can see he's hesitant.  
“See you around,” They both say in unison.  
I bite my lip and watch them take off down the hall, chasing each other and laughing, the sound echoing between the stone walls, and I can't help but think about what George had wanted to say.


	27. Chapter 27

I can feel the alcohol hit at about 1 am, the shots I took 20 minutes ago finally catching up on me. I`m wearing a short silver dress that keeps slipping up whenever I walk, and I worry I`m one more shot away from revealing something others do not want to see. I've straightened my hair and it's flowing down my back, gold locks shining in the faint lighting. I can feel the makeup on my face when I smile, my lips dry beneath the color I had put on and my lashes heavy, but I hadn't had to do much smiling so far, so that was something. I was wobbling in my heels, but I didn't want to take them off, not even when I realized I was as tall as Marcus and it seemingly bothered him. I felt light, like I was floating around in this space, unattached from my body; merely observing. It was comforting, yet brought me anxiety, and Marcus`s arm around my waist had me tensed up yet clinging to him. He spoke to everyone, as I quickly discovered, and he was popular. It was a strange popularity though, not like Joe who demanded the attention of any room because he was so bubbly and… safe, nor like the Weasley twins who were crazy but fun, or Cedric who was annoyingly confident but also friendly and approachable. Marcus was popular because people wanted to be on his good side, otherwise they had to suffer remarks or the cold shoulder, and he navigated the room expertly. I observed that there were some he refused to speak to, even Slytherin`s, and others who cowered when he came close and fled the scene. I wondered what he had done to make them so afraid of him, how badly his words could sting. That was the perk of being invisible, I thought. I was never the main target, because he didn't know I existed, not before recently. I had taken some mockery for him in my earlier days, but I suspected they were small compared to what others probably had to endure on a regular basis. I frown, and I feel guilty for being so intrigued by him, for walking by his side. I didn't understand his intentions, and suspected I wouldn't either, but I had to admit that this entire situation was an advantage for me. He was parading me around like a prize, and he didn't expect, or want, me to speak, and put me on the map without making me stand out. I felt strangely powerful being on his arm, the magic tingling within me. I could understand why so many girls were obsessed with him now, if he did this to them. Brought them out, never complimenting them but showing them off in a room. We felt like some kind of power couple. He pushed another drink in my hand and I took a sip, raising a brow as he watched me.  
“What?” I mutter.  
He smirks in return, his eyes darkening as he places a hand on my elbow and leads me over to a quiet corner. I can feel Blaise and Theo watching us from where we'd left them, and somehow the vodka I had drunk didn't manage to settle my nerves.  
“Smiles,” He says quietly, leaning in towards me.   
His breath was ghosting my cheeks and it smelled strongly of alcohol and cigarettes, and I shiver, not sure whether is his breath that's causing it or the fact that he's using my surname.  
“Jessica,” I whisper, then clear my throat so my voice is audible. “I prefer Jessica,”  
His brows furrow, turning his face into a scowl, but his fingers trace a pattern up my arm, lingering on my collarbone. Eventually he cups my face with one hand, his other on my hip, his touch demanding but forgiving, and I find the world to be awfully blurry. I can make out his features, but just barely, and I can't think straight. His scent fills my head and I can't look away from his dark eyes, and my body is living in constant confusion on whether to kick in the fight or flight instinct, or to melt beneath his touch.  
“I prefer Smiles,” He says.  
I don't protest, and I don't protest when he leans in to kiss me either. His lips are somewhat rough and feel dry against mine, but they're demanding and confident, his tongue instantly slipping into my mouth. It takes a moment for my shoulders to relax and for my hands to come to rest on his chest, and he`s hot below my touch, the thin fabric of his shirt slightly damp from sweat. His breath reeks of alcohol and smoke, but the taste doesn't quite come across even as his tongue explores my mouth. He's demanding, insisting, and his hand travels down my body and finds the bare skin just below my dress. My head is spinning, but I lean back to give him access, drowning out the party and music and thoughts as his fingers slip below the hem and trace across my thigh. My hand rests on his neck, his skin burning up, and my other rake`s down his back, and all I can think about is his heated skin and the way the tip of his tongue now tastes like the alcohol he had been drinking. Still, there`s something natural about it, and it might be the drinks I've had that have turned off my rational thinking.   
“Let's leave the party,” He murmurs, but his voice is loud enough that people standing nearby would hear.  
I pause for a moment, trying to feign some kind of leverage in my hazy mind, but there is nothing there. The back of my mind is telling me it's not sensible, that this is not being careful or keeping my head down, but I don`t care. I don`t care. I just want to feel alive and not worry about every little thing, I just want to feel like I could breathe and have fun and do stupid and crazy things. I nod, and he places his hand at the small of my back, leading me towards his dorm. I'm aware of the people staring at us, who watch us go and start the gossip, but I don`t care.


	28. Chapter 28

My knees hit the back of his bed and Marcus pushes me backwards, and the fall knocks the breath out of me. He climbs on top of me, leaning back to pull the curtains shut around the bed frame, and then his lips find mine. They`re rough now, curious and heated, and I let the thoughts disappear out of my head, my focus on the way his hands travel up my legs. He pushes my skirt up so it comes to rest around my waist, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of my underwear, ghosting over the skin revealed. I shiver, feeling the heat pool between my legs, and he presses up against me, my lips submitting to his. I reach down to open his belt, but I fumble and he pushes them away to do it himself. I feel the hardness of his length against my thigh and my hand wraps around it, earning a growl from him, and I'm suddenly glad it's not bigger than it is. He pauses to put on a condom, and I don't bother telling him I'm on birth control, nor that it's my first time, watching his pale face and dark eyes shift towards. When he pushes against my entrance and slides into me I gasp, surprised at the feeling of it. There was a slight sting of pain at first, but it faded quickly into a discomfort, and then it was gone all together. He was panting into my neck and my eyes found a spot on the roof, my arms wrapping around his shoulders to give them something to do, and my legs settled around his waist. His thrusts are even and grow more frantic after a minute. Shortly after he collapses on top of me, tugging at my hair, and I wiggle to get some room to breathe, my heart pounding in my chest. He rolls off me and we lay next to each other, heavy breaths filling the space, our bodies no longer touching. It was odd, I thought, still being fully clothed, and all I have to do is shuffle my underwear back to where it belongs and pull my dress down and I`m presentable again, but it wasn't unpleasant. I had expected it to hurt more, and for it to be more awkward, but it was quick and easy and kind of fun, uncomplicated. I glance at him, at the way his chest rises and falls, at his lashes on his cheek and his raven hair drenched in sweat. The corner of his mouth twitches.  
“Shall we join the party again?” He suggests, voice husky.  
I frown, but nod before realizing he can't see it.  
“Yeah,” I mutter.  
He stands up and pulls his pants back on, dragging a hand through his hair and motioning for me to come over. I join him by his side as we leave the dorm, and as gazes fall on us I don't quite know how to feel. A sense of pride at being paraded around the common room like a prized possession, and a sting of loneliness and awkwardness when no one addresses me. Even Margot, who`s surrounded by a flock of girls, does not speak to me but holds a dull conversation with Marcus, and she's avoiding my gaze. Still, people are drawn to us, and there are looks of envy and admiration, and for some wicked reason I enjoy it. It makes me feel like I`m on a high, like I'm at the peak of alcohol consumption right before the crash, but I'm sobering up so that can`t be to blame. I stay by his side for a while longer, his hand still at the small of my back, until I excuse myself and leave the common room unseen. I sprint to my training spot, too careless, but lucky not to get caught, and I throw spells at the dummy at random. I`m definitely still drunk and my magic is messy, my thoughts all over the place which makes my spells sloppy, but it feels kind of good. I feel weird, I realize, not wrong but not right either, and I both want to run away and more of Marcus, and it's leaving me confused. I`m also confused as to why I keep picturing a certain red-haired 7th year in my mind, why images of his smile and the sound of his laughter won`t leave me alone even when I empty all of my magic.

I`ve taken my usual seat in Ancient Runes class, right between Lyra and Joe, and we`re listening to the professor. Joe keeps trying to get my attention, but I find the subject we`re covering quite interesting, and so does Lyra, and we wave him off. His soft orange hair is slicked back and the top buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned, his ravenclaw tie loose around his neck, and he's gotten a new pair of pants that are both loose and tight at the same time, which is an oddly flattering look. He's getting away with not wearing the complete uniform despite the professor being extra strict now that we had guests, and I wondered if they hadn't noticed, or if the good grades made up for it. He was tipping back in his chair as he took notes, occasionally pausing to nudge me and try to start a conversation, and while I couldn't help but smile I hushed him. When class finished he almost lept out of his chair and grabbed Lyra and I by the arm, pulling us into the hallway the second we had packed our bags.   
“Okay, you not having told us about the party yet is torture!” He gasps.  
I don't quite know how I will explain it to them, nor how I will fit everything I want to say in the 15 minutes between classes, but I do need to tell them. I have to talk to someone about it, otherwise it's going to drive me insane. But first there was a question on my mind that had been there ever since I left Marcus`s bed.  
“How was the Gryffindor`s party?” I ask him, and I cut Joe off before he starts his lecture. “This isn't a distraction away from your question, Joe, I will tell you, but I want to know,”  
“It was SO good. And an invitation from the twins themselves was awesome, and apparently we all like Harry Potter again. Honestly confusing but whatever. There was a lot of firewhisky and dancing and games, and it was so much fun,” Joe squeals.   
“It was… a bit wild, but yeah, fun. Everyone was quite friendly, and I feel like we got to know some people better, which is interesting. We don't hang out with Gryffindors a lot,” Lyra begins, and then she goes on an entire tangent about how Hogwarts and Professor Dumbledore are creating a divide between the houses and how it`s promoted to stick to your sorted house and how that is creating a terrible society.  
I mean, I completely agree with her, and she has excellent points, but that was not the point of the question, and we now only have five minutes to cover the party, not including Joe and Lyra who need to get to their Herbology class on time.  
“Okay, Lyra, we get it. Important, but not important right now. Right now we need to hear about Jess`s experience,” Joe interrupts her, holding up his hand.  
Lyra glares at him, but I can see it`s pretense as she turns her attention to me.  
“I fucked Marcus,” I blurt out, because somehow my mouth decides to speak before my mind can form a better sentence.  
It wasn't quite how I imagined telling the story, but it did the job. Joe gasped dramatically, and Lyra looked both repulsed and excited at once.  
“Uh, wow. Okay, backstory?” She asks.  
“Yeah yeah, how is it? Was he good?” Joe jumps in.  
I laugh at their eagerness, leaning in closer so I can drop my voice to a whisper as students are filing into the classroom.  
“We were just drinking and he wanted me to hang with him I guess, that's it. It wasn't a very interesting party, and I totally missed you guys because all I did was sit and drink and stand and drink, but oh well. He kissed me, I think, and then invited me to his room, and I was like, you know what, fuck it, I`m going with the flow,” I say.  
“Yes girl!” Joe exclaims.  
Lyra can`t quite hold back the grin, her composure slipping up.  
“I guess it was okay, well, I don't know. It didn't hurt as much as I expected, and it was fun. It was… fast,” I blush, then shake my head. “But yeah, it was fun,”  
“That's good,” Lyra comments, and she sounds genuine about it, which I appreciate. “Have you spoken to him after?”  
I shake my head.   
“I haven't seen him,” I mutter.  
Lyra is about to say something, but Professor McGonagall peaks her head out of the classroom.  
“Are you planning on joining us, Miss Smiles, or are you skipping today's class?” She asks sternly, then her gaze lands on Lyra and Joe. “And you two have somewhere else to be, no?”   
Lyra straightens up immediately and grabs Joe`s arm, giving me an apologetic look.  
“Yes, Professor, we'll be on our way,” She mutters.  
I see them take off sprinting down the hallway and for a moment I think professor McGonagall might tell them off, but she beckons me inside and I take a seat at the back, my head filled with happiness and curiosity and confusion and darkness.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, I can`t believe that this little story of mine is being read. I appreciate each and every one of you, and am honestly so surprised you keep on trudging on in this universe with me. I`m sorry the chapters are coming slower now, I promise I`m doing my best. Lots of exciting moments in this story to come and I`m so ready for dramaaa and love and fluff!
> 
> Love
> 
> My Wildest Words

The week passed by quickly, and I had taken a seat next to Marcus yet another morning. He barely cast his gaze towards me, his expression cool and unbothered as he returned to a conversation about Quidditch with his teammates. He insisted I sit by him though, but he didn't address me throughout breakfast. I had curled my hair for the occasion and pinned it back with a velvet bow, my lips a rosy pink and my lashes coated with mascara. It didn't seem like he had noticed the effort I had put in though, and I find myself glancing around the room. My attention falls on the Weasley twins across the room, who for some reason were sitting on the table, wide grins on their faces as they drew a crowd. Cedric was with them, I noticed, and he catches my gaze and gives a little wave. I blush and turn my attention back to the table, where Marcus throws an arm around my shoulder. I tense but lean into him.  
“Let's go,” He says and pulls me to my feet before I can react.  
The remainders of my toast are left on my plate and I look at it longingly, but allow him to tug me towards a group of Durmstrangs. They`re talking and I fade into the background, Marcus`s arm still around me, and all I can feel is my heart pounding in my chest. I don`t understand why this felt so okay one moment and then so… weird the next, why he made me feel like I couldn't breathe yet gave me an adrenaline high. Blaise and Theo are staring at me with raised brows, their arms crossed, and I suddenly realize Marcus has been speaking to me. Even I knew he wasn't one you ignored.   
“Sorry?” I say softly, unable to meet his gaze.  
“We`re skipping class. Hurry,” He mutters, once again guiding me away.  
His touch wasn't rough, and he wasn't exactly dragging me along, but the touch at the small of my back was insisting and demanding, and I couldn't protest. Still, I couldn't skip. I didn't want to get in trouble and besides, I liked most of my classes.  
“Why?” I whisper as we exit the great hall.  
“Because,” He hisses. “Come on,”  
I pause in the hallway, suddenly frozen to the ground.   
“I, uh, I can't. I have Care of Magical Creatures,” I reply, aware that everyone is listening in our conversation.  
He gives me a disgusted glare, but his hand remains on the small of my back, the pressure increasing.  
“That class is stupid, and we`re skipping,” he leans closer, his breath hot against my neck.  
“But I can`t,” I say, my voice trembling.   
“We`re skipping. Come now,” He finalizes.  
My heart is still pounding and my hands are shaking, so I just nod quietly and join him and his gang as we walk through the snow towards the great lake. I don't know what we are doing, because all we do for an hour is stand around beneath the trees, and I watch Marcus smoke and worry the smell will linger on me, but I say nothing. I feel guilty. Guilty for skipping, for not having the courage to stand up for myself, and weird somehow, weirder than before. He treats me like a pastime, like an accessory, yet I get this sense of belonging, of a wicked safety, one that is false and will turn out to betray me, but I still desire to cling onto it. I was confused and lost, and I didn't know what to do.

I pack up my bag as quickly as possible when DADA class ends, but Amy is chatting to someone behind her and her books are still splayed out across the table.  
“Amy,” I mutter when Professor Moody approaches us, his wooden leg dragging behind him.  
His glass eye is staring straight at me, the blue impossibly bright, shivers running down my spine. I finish stuffing my things into my bag and button it shut, slinging it over my shoulder as I tug at Amy`s arm. She waves me off as she keeps on making jokes with the other girl, and I feel panic rise within me as Professor Moody is only a few steps away.  
“Miss Smiles,” he says in his grumbly voice, and I freeze. “Stay after class, I need a moment of your time,”  
“Uh, okay, yes professor,” I mutter, glancing at Amy for support.  
She stands with me, her eyes wide as if she`s suddenly noticed we've outstayed our welcome, but Professor Moody fixes her with a stare.   
“The rest of you, out. Now.” He grumbles.  
I send Amy a pleading look, but she looks startled by Professor Moody and flees the room with the other hufflepuff. I let out a strained breath and face my professor, trying to ignore the creepy eye piercing my soul.  
“Miss Smiles,” He says again, and a chill runs through my body.  
This wasn't good. I know that Professor Lupin said he was familiar to Dumbledore and therefore safe, but this did not feel safe. There was something about the tension in his shoulders that had me stay on guard, about his abrupt hand movements, something I couldn't quite put my finger on… I had been forced to become good at reading people, especially adults, and he seemed off somehow. Still, I have to keep my composure and pretend I'm not fazed.  
“How have you been holding up this year, then?” He asks slowly, pacing up and down between the rows of tables.  
I watch him carefully, trying to keep the frown off my face.  
“Uh, good, I guess,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.  
“Good, good. Practicing your spells, right? Good grades, I hear,” He comments.  
“Uh, yes professor,” I respond, suspicious.  
“Excellent,” He grumbles, pausing in front of me.  
He takes me in from top to toe, then settles his gaze on mine, his eye fixed on me. It feels as if it can see right through me, as if he's gone through skin and bone and is exploring my soul below. There are goosebumps running along my spine and I have to fight back the urge to wrap my arms around my chest, as if that will stop him from seeing what's below the surface, but I stand my ground. He doesn't look intimidated by me though, and I suspect he can see through my facade.  
“I knew your parents,” He says eventually, his creepy eye still locked on me.  
My stomach drops, and every single part of me is telling me to run and to get as far away from him as possible. My gut feeling had been right all along, there was something off about this guy. However, he was an auror, so he could have been on the other end of it; trying to catch them instead of working with them. I try to rationalize that he was one of the good ones, that Dumbledore had hired him after all, but for all I knew Dumbledore could have been desperate. No matter how much I try to comfort myself, my gut feeling is telling me that there is something off about him. He seems to realize I`m not going to reply, so he pats my shoulder roughly.  
“Smart people, you know. Danced on the wrong side of things, certainly, but smart, smart people. Strong too, your mother. Oddly strong,”  
I feel nauseous and the room is spinning, my palms sweaty even as I clutch the hems of my skirt, desperately trying to keep my entire body from shaking. I can't see clearly; my vision is blurry and dotted with black, and I want to throw up and I want to run. I force myself to take a deep breath, swallowing hard before I will myself to speak.  
“I didn't know my mother,” I choke out.  
He's still watching me in that same daunting way of his, and breathing is becoming increasingly difficult.   
“Hm, I suppose not,” He rumbles right next to me, and I jump back. “I wonder though, Miss Smiles, whether you possess some of the same strength…,”  
I barely hear the end of his sentence before I spin around on the spot and sprint out the door, slamming it shut behind me. I don't know where I`m going, but all I know is that I have to get far, far away from here.


	30. Chapter 30

I ran out the main entrance, not caring that others had to jump out of my way and the whispering I left them with, sprinting over the training grounds and down the path. I had no idea where I was going, didn't care, all I knew was that I had to get out of here, away from Professor Moody and the dangers that lurked in the castle, away from any potential threats. I didn't dare to look back to see if he was following me, and I had only heard him shout after me once when barging out of the classroom. My heart was pounding in my chest and my legs were aching, but I gritted my teeth together and kept on running, the taste of blood on my tongue and tears stinging my eyes. Suddenly something grabs hold of me and I scream, except nothing but a yelp comes out. My vision is too blurry for me to make out what, or who it is, my head spinning as I try to kick and hit blindly, and a surprised groan tells me it`s a man that has grabbed me. Except it doesn't feel like professor Moody. The grip is firm but soft, holding me at arms length through my panic, a touch I somehow recognize.  
"Jess, Jess," A voice is saying, evening without missing a beat.  
I blink in confusion, and I feel my body still. It's desperate for the break, and I can feel my arms and legs tremble, but I convince myself to stay upright. My lungs still feel tight and I'm lightheaded, and I can hear the adrenaline rush through my veins, my heart beating at rapid speed. My breathing comes out strained and I feel the panic resurface, but then there's a hand cupping my cheek and I freeze. The touch is warm, skin soft and the touch gentle, and I find myself melting into it. I don't know why it feels so familiar, because I'm unsure whether I have felt it before; I can't place it, but somehow as a thumb comes out to stroke my blushed cheeks, it feels like safety. Like coming home. I focus on that feeling, surprised how easily it comes to me, let the world around me fade as I let that light warmth draw me in. My eyes flutter shut and my knees tremble, my lungs still aching as I gasp for air, but I'm not as afraid of it now. There's a voice at the back of my mind telling me that if I was still in danger and that this was how I got caught, or killed, that it was alright. It felt so safe, so like home, that I'd pay the price for it.   
"You`ll be alright," The person says, and then I`m lowered to my knees, still kept at arm's length.  
I keep my eyes shut and try to place the voice, but I can't work through the panic, can`t get my body to get out of fight or flight mode yet, so I let it shake uncontrollably because it's a better option than running.  
"You`ll be alright," He repeats, voice low and husky, and I realize I recognize it.  
I slowly open my eyes, blinking through the tears until I make out a head of red hair and pale skin flushed by winter. A burgundy sweater layered with a black coat, gloveless hands; one on my cheek and the other on my upper arm. He's staring at me with concern, his mouth slightly open, eyebrows pinching together as he meets my gaze. They`re warm and soft and familiar, and I know who`s they are now. It shouldn't feel like this, I think as my panic begins to settle. All I want to do is drown in those eyes, in the warm sea of amber, to have his hand on my cheek forever. But forever doesn't exist, and I`ve come to realize we`re both sitting in the snow and my tights are soaked through, and I'm now shivering and shaking at once.  
"Jess?" George says slowly. "Are you okay?"   
And then he`s stripping his jacket off and wrapping it around my shoulders, giving it a little tug to make sure it's secure before rubbing the warmth back into my arms. Why does this feel so right? It shouldn't. It isn`t. I can't find my voice, so I just nod, still staring at him because I can't physically move.  
"Take a deep breath," He mutters.  
His breath smells like peppermint, and I find myself listening to him, gasping in the air instead of drawing it in, and he matches it. Eventually my pulse slows down and I no longer feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest, my breath fairly even, but now that the adrenaline and fear is gone it has drained my energy. I fall forward and he catches me, and to my surprise his arms settle around me, one stroking gently down my back while the other pulls me closer, and I bury my head in his chest. I drew in the scent of him with each breath; the fireworks and cinnamon and pine trees, and listened to his heartbeat and forgot all about the dangers surrounding me. My arms find a spot to rest on his back, my frozen fingers clutching his sweater, and my thoughts empty out as I sit there in his embrace, letting the world go on without me.

I don`t know for how long we sit like that, wrapped in each other in a tangle of arms and legs and clothes, but eventually he gently pries me off him and pulls me to my feet. I don't protest, and he doesn't give me a chance to topple over as he scoops me up into his arms. I look up to find he's headed for the castle, and the last bit of energy is trying to set off the alarm bells within me, and I lightly pat his chest.  
"Not the castle," I say weakly.  
George frowns down at me, but nods solemnly. He turns on the spot and I hear his boot crunch in the snow as my eyes flutter shut, and my mind is torn between wanting to shut off and analyze the dangers surrounding me.   
"I can walk," I mutter instead, trying to focus on something else entirely.  
I am very aware of the fact that I probably don't sound like I can walk, as my voice is barely audible even when I'm speaking right below his ear, and my hands are trembling.  
"Hm," He just replies, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.  
I resist the urge to trace the crease it creates.  
"Are you kidnapping me?" I`m trying to joke, but I don't think it comes across.   
He chuckles though, and I'm grateful.  
"Absolutely. Onward, to my secret layer," He responds.  
Except, I discover, we`re actually in his secret layer. Or maybe not his, but a secret layer. He sets me down carefully, one arm still around me as my legs threaten to give out, and I wonder how far I managed to run since I`m so exhausted. I take a deep breath and take a look around, taking a few hesitant steps forward.  
"Where are we?" I asked.  
It looked like a house, one about to fall apart and be forgotten forever, full of dust and plants growing through cracks, but there was beauty to it. There were memories here; I could tell from the worn sofa and the scratched furniture, the cups in the glass cabinet with it`s chipped rims.  
"The shrieking shack," George says.  
He's watching me apprehensively, as if I might collapse or go crazy at any time, which to be fair is quite understandable. I give him a careful smile and he mirrors it, and I find two blankets in a basket and throw one at him. He catches it and joins me on the sofa, where we sit in silence for a bit. It finally hits me how cold I am, having sat in the snow, but the heavy wool blanket and the jacket he has given me helps. He must be freezing though, and I glance over him, shy all of the sudden. He's still watching me, but not in the same way as before. There is worry in his expression, care in his eyes, and I would never have guessed the jokester could have looked so gentle. Nor felt like what he had done back out there, the traces of that feeling still present. I shudder.  
"You okay?" He asks me carefully.  
I avert my eyes and stare at the fireplace, wondering whether I should tell him; whether I could trust him.


	31. Chapter 31

I'm surprised, and quite proud, I haven't thrown up. I don't think I would have been able to recover from that embarrassment. George is still watching me apprehensively, his skin a few inches from mine, but he's giving me space to process for which I'm grateful. It takes a while until I get my breathing under control and for my heartbeat to slow down to a somewhat normal speed, and eventually my body stops shaking. I sag into the sofa and rest my head against the dusty fabric, closing my eyes.  
“You okay?” He asks again, softly, as if he's afraid to hurt me further, as if I'm fragile.  
I force a smile, but I can feel it comes out as a grimace.  
“Yeah,” I say, realizing it doesn't sound like I mean it. “I`m okay,”  
He places his hand over mine and a breath catches in my throat as electricity jolts through my fingers and spreads throughout me, and I resist the urge to entwine his fingers with mine. It seems I did not have to strain myself to resist though, because his fingers slip between mine and hold on tight, his hand enveloping mine. His skin was warm and soft with a few healed scars at the palm, comforting and familiar and enough to make my stomach flutter. I finally dare meet his gaze and find his amber eyes sparkling, bright even in the dim light. I want to drown in them, stare into them until the whole wide world fades and it's just us. I swallow. I must be losing my mind.  
“What happened?” He asks kindly.  
There`s no judgement in his tone, just genuine curiosity and concern, and it frightens me. I so desperately want to tell him, want to get it all off my chest, but the fear is stopping me. At this point I don't think it's the fear of danger that gets me, as there are enough people who seem to know my secret by now and threats seem to be coming my way regardless. I`m afraid of him no longer looking at me like he does; like I'm a wonder waiting to be explored, like I'm a slow adventure to be unfolded. I`m afraid of losing him.  
“I… I can't tell you. It's complicated, and fucked up, and I can't carry this around on my own forever, but people keep expecting me to, and I can't breathe,”  
"People, as in who?" George says after a pause.  
He's still holding my hand, and I squeeze lightly, just to see if he`s doing the same. He did, and my heart wanted to escape my chest. Why was I feeling this way around him all of the sudden? It must be because of my state of panic and the overwhelming emotions I had felt earlier. They were obviously confusing me. I sigh, feeling my shoulders slump and the words clawing at my throat. It was unfair of them to ask me to carry such a thing alone, cruel of Dumbledore to have me keep it all a secret. I had been a child when he asked it off me, a scared one too, and I still was a child. He could not expect me to keep my lips sealed. Besides, I hadn't managed to keep it a secret with my friends, and while they didn`t know everything, they knew a lot. He hadn't noticed, apparently, and if he did he didn't seem to care. He couldn't blame me for wanting, needing, to tell someone.  
"Dumbledore," I mutter quietly. "It is not fair, you know. He's asked so much of me ever since I first came to Hogwarts, and has left me to fend for myself with it. That's not fair."  
I'm trying not to cry, which is making my eyes burn, and my lip is quivering. I cannot cry in front of him, not when he's already seen me at my worst; in a frightened, panicked, sobbing mess. He did not need more proof that I was unhinged.  
"Dumbledore?" His tone is so gentle that I want to melt into him. "I understand I don't know any of the backstory here, but... I want to help. But I don't know how,"  
The tears are slipping down my cheeks and I'm trembling again, and his grip around my hand tightens ever so slightly, and all I can think is that Dumbledore cannot possibly expect not to crack at the seams. I should have gone straight to him, but part of me resented him for not reaching out more often, for not checking up on me. For not explaining to me what my powers meant, for not reassuring me when they grew stronger and I more frightened. My heart wanted to spill, and so I did, because it was inevitable.  
"My parents were death eaters. They were killed by aurors a few years after You-Know-Who`s disappearance because they were still conspiring along with a few others who remained loyal. They also killed my brother, which kind off sucked, and they raised him to be a follower. I mean, me too, I guess, but I was like 4, so I didn't understand much," I surprised myself with how detached I sounded, with how far-away and emotionless my own voice was.  
He frowned, and when he met my gaze I knew he saw right through my demeanor, saw the control slip out of my grasp to reveal fear and shame and terror. How he was able to see right through me I didn't know, but it didn't scare me as much as I would have expected. I was scared off so much else that him and the odd but strong things I felt around him couldn't fit on that list.  
"I`m sorry," He says, which is a strange thing to say when someone you`ve just become friends with confesses their parents were brutal murderers and you were on the good side.  
The worst thing was that it looked like he meant it. I couldn`t stop now that I had started, and part of me wanted to scare him off, to prove myself right; that no one would stay once they knew the truth.  
"Yeah. Great upbringing there. Trauma aside, I got placed with my grandparents, which was unremarkably dull but safe, I suppose, and then one day Dumbledore shows up and tells me I'm a witch. It was weird, but it beat thinking I was crazy all my life, so that was something," I know I ought to shut up soon, but words are pouring out of me even though all warning bells are going wild. Warning bells be damned, I keep speaking. "The powers kept growing as I was here, and as I learned, and I watched my classmates and thought I wasn't normal, but no one really spoke to me about it. And there was this incident... No one was hurt or anything, but like, I left a wake of destruction and nearly tore myself apart which was fun, and Dumbledore finally speaks to me about it. But all he says is I`ve inherited my mothers strength, which tells me nothing because I didn`t fucking know her, and that I have to keep it out of sight. Do you know how hard it is when you don't understand what it is, when you have no mechanisms to cope with it? It scared the shit out of me, I never wanted the power,"  
I`m rambling, and George had to lean in to keep up. He nods solemnly when I stop to draw a breath, then studies my face.  
"That must have been hard," He mutters, and his hand that isn't tangled with mine reaches up, as if he might cup my cheek again, but then it drops back into his lap again. "You have the right to understand,"  
I stare at him for a moment, needing time to process that. I had just told him all of that, that I was raised by death eaters and possessed scary powers I couldn`t control, and he had sympathy with me? Strange. Impossible. Yet I wanted so desperately to believe it was real. After all, Amy, Lyra and Joe had been understanding, but they had gotten to know me for months and learned who I was before I spilled my secrets.  
"Uh, yeah," I replied, caught a little off guard. "Anyways, it did get better when Professor Lupin started. He was kind of a saint about it. He was actually the one who told me to talk to you and Fred about the secret room,"  
I smile carefully at that, and he mirrors it.  
"Of course, I should have guessed. He was, is, a good one. So the room is for you to practice your spellwork then, actually, but also to... train your power?"  
He sounded hesitant, as if my fragile soul might not handle if he asked, so I nod confirmatively.  
"In a way. If I learn to control it, it is mine to wield. When it gets bottled up, and feelings come in to play, I feel like I lose control, which means I actually lose control. So if I let it out steadily it`s manageable, and if I can wield it it's mine. If that makes sense," I`m suddenly shy now, weary as my heart's contents have been poured out, but I do not have it in me to regret it.  
"It belongs to you, the magic, and you don't belong to it," He hums along. "Yeah, I get that. It's like that for all of us, isn't it, maybe especially those not born in families with magic, and on a smaller scale. It frightens us all when we first come, I can only imagine how it feels like when it's more powerful,"  
I let out a sigh of relief.  
"What happened today, then?" He asks.  
Since he still hasn't abandoned me here or threatened to deliver me to Dumbledore's office himself, I might as well tell him.  
"Professor Moody confronted me today after class. I`ve felt this odd vibe coming from him ever since he arrived at Hogwarts, but everyone told me he was just a bit creepy-looking and weird, but I don`t know... There's something about him that isn't right, a shadow surrounding him. I tried to tell Professor Lupin this, but he told me to trust Dumbledore, and that is what everyone tells me, but how can I? He asked me about my parents, about my powers...," I mutter.  
George frowns at that, taking a minute to think before he speaks.  
"I guess he is an auror, so that's how he knew... And Dumbledore could have told him about your powers, but that's a bit odd, isn't it? I think we do have to trust Dumbledore, but also, you need to listen to your intuition. It is rarely wrong," He decides.  
I`m surprised by the support he is handing out so easily, even after all the crazy I threw at him. Impossible. Unlikely. Terribly, terribly charming, and it's making me feel dizzy, but not in the dreadful panicked way. This was a pleasant, tingling dizzy that I wanted to jump head first into.  
"Yeah, maybe...," I hum.  
He sits up straight suddenly, staring at me.  
"What about Karkaroff then? I mean, he's an ex death eater, but...," He begins, then stops halfway through his sentence.  
"But once a death eater, always a death eater?" I finish the sentence for him, hearing the own coolness in his voice.  
He nudges me, and there is a hint of awkwardness mixing with the playfulness of it, and a smile escapes my lips.  
"Except when you were a toddler, that hardly counts. And I like to think anyone can change, but that guy is creepy. Has he given you any trouble?" He asks, as if he had the authority to do anything about it.  
I just shake my mind, and for some reason I'm fairly certain he would have made it his business if I said Karkaroff had given me any trouble. Which was crazy as he was the headmaster of a school probably ranked higher than ours, and an ex death eater, and an actual adult, but he looked so determined and... almost protective that I didn't doubt it for one moment.


	32. Chapter 32

We walk back to the castle in silence, but to my surprise it isn't heavy, and I can't bring myself to regret telling George. I know I should, that I ought to be more careful with my secrets, but this felt natural and safe. Which was strange in itself, because it wasn't, it shouldn't be, and I worried about that. I realize we have stopped, and see that he has brought me to my common room, about the same time it dawns on me that I've skipped class. Again.  
“This is you,” He says gently.  
I suddenly wonder why he doesn't show this side of him more often, why he's always loud and the reflection of his brother, why the jokes and banter take the lead over the softness he's shown me so many times. Maybe he does show it with close friends, and I just have not noticed when his bright and present personality fills crowded rooms.  
“Yeah,” I begin carefully, like the space between us is fragile. “Hey, George, thanks for… yeah. Thanks,”  
I trail off, uncertain what words could fit in this precious space. There's a blush on my cheeks and I avert my eyes, trying to take subtle deep breaths so the pressure in my chest eases up. He grins at me, then reaches out to tug a strand of hair, twirling it around a long finger before letting go. Playful, familiar, like nothing had changed between us.  
“No worries, Jess. Anytime,” He seems to hesitate, then soldiers on. “If anyone gives you trouble, let me know, okay?”  
I wouldn`t, but I appreciated the gesture regardless. The goodbye we say is natural and awkward at the same time, and I wonder what revealing my secrets will lead to in the long run.

Life goes back to normal to my relief and surprise, and my friends and I have occupied our usual seats in the library, hiding from the December cold. Amy and Joe are gossiping and Lyra is finishing a piece of homework, while my intentions are to write to professor Lupin. The parchment, however, is full of scratched out sentences and hesitations. I haven't told them yet, not about professor Moody or George, but I don't feel guilty about it. I need time to process, time to worry whether I awarded trust in the right place, worry about everything. I`d tell them, in time, but not yet. Still, despite my worrying I feel oddly at peace; like a burden has been lifted off my shoulders. I mean, if Professor Moody ends up kidnapping me, at least George will know and probably warn Dumbledore. That's something. I take a deep breath and Amy catches my gaze, smiling brightly at me, her hair now dyed a beautiful sunflower yellow.  
“Oh, btw. Cedric told me there is going to be a ball at the end of the month!” She exclaims.  
Joe gives her a wounded stare, holding his hand over his heart.  
``And you're just telling us now??” He gasps dramatically.  
I laugh at the two of them, but I'm intrigued.  
“A ball?” I ask.  
Lyra has paused her writing to listen in, and I smile.  
“The Yule Ball, which sounds magical, and like obviously the Durmstrangs and Beauxbatons are going, and I bet it's going to be awesome!” Amy speaks so fast it takes some serious brain power to catch what she's saying.  
“The Yule Ball, huh. Sweet,” I mutter.  
Amy`s beaming at me, and Joe`s grinning so from ear to ear, and even Lyra can't help but smile. It does sound fun, and magical, and I'd love to spend it with them, dancing the night away. Maybe sneaking in some alcohol, even. I`m about to suggest it when someone approaches us, the smile fading off my face as I entagle myself from Amy`s grip to meet him. I had spent a lot of time in the library these past four and a half years, and I had never seen him here once. I'm torn between feeling flattered and invaded, his expression cool as he studies me. He reaches out for me and takes my hand in his, his palms clammy against mine. He's alone, which is unusual for him, and my mind wants to think it's because of me, because he wants to weep me away. I don`t think I`m wrong, necessarily, but it's not as simple as that. It never was with him.  
“Come, we`re going back to the common room,” He says steadily, loud enough for any curious bystanders to hear.  
He never asks, yet there is something so enchanting about him, about his demands; a captivating force to it, a pull I can`t resist. I want to hesitate, beg myself to, but I can`t.  
“Yeah. I'm just gonna finish up quickly,” I mutter, my voice trembling.  
He doesn't so much as look at my friends, he merely turns his back to them while he waits, and I feel the sting of pain that brings. At least the ignoring is better than bullying, so I suppose I should feel grateful. It must cost him a great deal not to say anything. I pack my bag and tuck my unfinished letter between books,hugging my friends goodbye before joining Marcus. We pass some seventh years in the hallway and he slips his hand into mine, tugging me closer. It feels okay, interesting, intoxicating, like flashes of power rushing through my veins; the kind of thrill you get when exploring the forbidden forest at dusk. The kind of thrill where you recognize danger but can't help but dive deeper into it. He places his finger beneath my chin and guides me closer, pressing a firm kiss to my lips. They`re soft, his touch warm, and he tastes vaguely like cigarettes. My whole body tingles, like I'm dancing on the verge of tipsy and drunk, and I kiss him back with determination. Still, it didn't feel like home, not like George did when he held me, and I wonder what it means.


	33. Chapter 33

I trail after Blaise, Theo and Draco, who are currently being led to the Slytherin common room by Marcus. It's been snowing consistently all day, but despite the grey weather they played Quidditch after classes, and I couldn't fault their dedication. My fingers were aching from the cold though, and my coat was soaked through, so the fireplace looked rather tempting to me. I frown as Marcus disappears to his dorm without saying anything to me, so I take a shower and change into something dry and warm when Margot knocks on the door.  
“Marcus is looking for you,” She says, her gaze gliding over the room, landing on the mess I had created on my side.  
She smiled apprehensively, but her eyes remained cool.  
“Ah, okay. Thanks,” I mutter, shaking my head.  
He had not spoken to me all day, and Blaise had been the one to invite me to watch Quidditch, which made for a rather awkward two hours standing next to Margot and her friends. If he wanted to speak to me, he could have said so himself. Still, I head to the common room and find Marcus sitting in one of the chairs, a book open in his lap next to a piece of parchment. I`d never seen him do homework before, I realize. Not that we had spent a lot of time together, but he was either hanging out in the common room doing nothing productive, playing Quidditch or working out. I linger nearby and feel the stares of his friends burn on me, a blush rising to my cheeks, but I wait until he raises his gaze. His eyebrow climbs upwards, which makes it look like he's scowling, but he motions to the armrest. I took a seat, peaking over his shoulder to see what he was doing. Dada homework. He`d only written two sentences, two rather weak ones at that, and he didn't seem to be overly invested. I nudge him lightly and he frowns at me.  
“What topic are you covering?” I ask softly, but my voice is too loud in the quiet room, and I'm certain everyone is watching the interaction between us.  
“The forbidden curses and their uses,” Marcus replied flatly. “We have to show to known examples of their uses and discuss, or something, I don`t know,”  
He could have at least tried not to sound like my presence was a bore, but just as I began to muster the courage to tell him that, he lays his hand on my thigh and smiles. I can't help but feel like a mouse caught in a trap, but I bring myself to smile back at him. I don't know why I`m so annoyed at him for not seeking me out to talk or hang out, nor acknowledging my presence in the freezing cold for two hours, but I'm trying to convince myself to either talk to him about it or forget it. Neither of those were going well.  
“You`re smart, aren't you babe?” He doesn't wait for me to respond. “Mind finishing it? I`m weary after Quidditch, and if I don't hand this in tomorrow I`ll be in big trouble,”  
I gape at him, and I barely register the tense silence that had fallen in the room. I`d be more inclined to help him out if he had bothered to speak to me today, and part of me was hurt that he didn't know I couldn't cope with the forbidden curses. But he had never asked, had never cared; nor did he notice when I was upset. I sigh and roll my eyes.  
“Whatever,” I mutter, but I take the piece of parchment from him.  
I did just do mine, which caused the anxiety to settle in well and the nightmares to worsen, so copying it with some alterations wouldn't be that much of a bother anyways. He doesn`t notice my annoyance and engages in a conversation with his friends, but his hand remains on my leg; the grip possessive and demanding, and I'm certain he's sending a message to anyone here. It seems to be working, for anyone who`s not in his inner circle stay clear of the area, and linger either close to the walls or walk around us to their dorms. It's an odd vibe, one that I think is more comfortable now that I`m in the inner circle, but one I don`t know if I`ll ever feel safe in.  
“Find something nice to wear,” Marcus comments after a while.  
“To what?” I ask him, pausing mid-sentence.  
He raises an eyebrow.  
“To The Yule Ball, duh,” He snorts.  
Blaise, Draco and Theo snicker, while Margot`s friends start whispering to each other. I bite my lip, a blush now coloring my cheeks. Right, that was around the corner, and it was bound to be a big deal.  
“Right, the 25th of December?” I mutter, more to myself than to him.  
“Obviously,” He sighs dramatically.  
I hear someone make a comment I don't quite catch, but I opt for keeping my head down. I had wanted to go with my friends, and looked forward to it, but he couldn't mind if I went with him and still spent time with them, right? I`d have to introduce him to my friend group at some point, properly, and he could not impossibly keep up the cold act towards them forever, not when he cared about me. He'd probably want me to have fun with them too, right? Still, I'm relieved he's asked me, the thought of him wanting to go with me enough confirmation that he likes me despite his odd way of showing it.

I had snuck out of Marcus` bed that late at night and headed towards my secret training spot, letting out a few days worth of pent up feelings and frustration and hurt. I had rid my body of all the burning adrenaline and power in my veins, and the sleep I drifted off to afterwards was still restless. The nightmares had returned, which was strange since I had kept up with my training, and gave me a pounding headache the following morning. I couldn't stop thinking about them, about the flashes of green and the masks and the screaming, so I snuck up to the library and did some work that wasn`t due for another two weeks after classes.  
"You`re dating Marcus Flint,"  
I look up to see Fred and George stalking towards me. Fred`s tie was askew and his shirt was messily tucked into his trousers, and George had a streak of black on his neck. I frown, but my heart is racing as I watch them.  
"Yeah," I reply.  
They throw themselves into the chairs opposite of me, Fred`s legs immediately going up on the table. I scoot my books closer to me and raise an eyebrow.  
"Why?" Fred asks, his voice booming through the library.  
I shush him and glance at George, who doesn't quite meet my gaze.  
"What kind of question is that?" I fire back at him.  
“A normal one. People can't shut up about it,” He shrugs.  
He's trying to trigger a reaction within me, and it's working.  
“People? As in?” I bite back, but I don't think I can hide the panic in my expression:  
“Everyone, basically,” He chuckles. “But back to the why?”  
“None of your business,” I hiss, turning my attention back to my homework.  
Fred wasn't having it, and he leans forward and puts his hand on the parchment I was trying to write on.  
“But it is. He's an asshole, we`re in his year, so I know that for a fact. He treats his girlfriends like shit,” Fred says, surprisingly gentle now.  
He almost sounds like George now, but there is a hint of the playful undertone he can't shed, almost like he's challenging me. Still, if I`m not reading it wrong, it sounds like he cares, which takes me by surprise.  
“How?” I whisper, unable to withhold my curiosity.  
Fred`s expression softens and I meet his gaze.  
“He does this, you know. Find a new pretty thing to parade around, to be an accessory, one that will cheer for him during Quidditch and stand in the background while he bullies people. Does his homework for him and tells him how great he is and looks absolutely stunning at parties by his side. Someone interesting and mysterious, someone that will make people talk. But you're not like that, Jess, and you don't deserve to be his afterthought. I can't see you standing by while he insults others, and hurts them. You`re too smart, too good, to be treated like that,” He says patiently, kindly.  
My throat feels tight, and my hands are trembling so I hide them away in my lap. George is watching me carefully, but his lips are pressed shut, his jaw clenched as if his silence is costing him a great deal. I want him to say something, to agree with Fred, to add something, and I don`t know why I`m waiting so desperately for it, but he remains quiet. My eyes are begging for him to meet mine, for him to say something, and I`m pretty sure Fred is giving him space to speak, but he says nothing, and there`s a heaviness in my heart I can`t explain.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> Thank you all for the continued love, you guys are awesome. I`m sorry the chapters are taking a bit longer than usual, life`s been so busy lately that I haven`t been able to write much. Know that I`m doing my best to stay somewhat regular. Anyways, happy reading :)

Eventually I accept that George isn't going to speak up, and I blame the disappointment on the fact that I know him better than Fred, even though I realize that's not the cause.  
"He's not that bad," I mutter weakly.  
I want to defend him, and myself, tell him that he is different from what meets the eye, that he is not all those things; but I realize I don`t know that. I know very little about him. I know he plays Quidditch and is barely passing some classes and doing okay at others, know who his friends are and that he likes parties. Apart from that, I know nothing about him.  
"Glad to hear your standards are high," George retorts, and I'm surprised to hear him speak.  
A heavy silence follows, and we`re staring at each other, the tension thick between us. I frown, but his expression remains challenging; as if he wants me to get mad, to defend myself. I just roll my eyes and say nothing, refusing to give him the satisfaction. His facade falters ever so slightly, and his eyes almost look… confused, or hurt, maybe, before he takes a deep breath and conceals the emotion. He doesn't do a very good job of it though, because I can see hints of it shine through, and it leaves me confused as to what it means.  
“Well, at least it means out of the two of you, you`ll look like a princess next to him at the Yule Ball. He`ll be the unkissed frog, but it will make you stand out,” Fred grins at me.  
I lean over and lightly slap the back of his head.  
“Don't be rude,” I hiss. “Who are you going to the ball with then?”  
Fred wiggles an eyebrow at me, which makes me bite back a laugh.  
“Angelina,” He says it loud enough for the librarian to hush us from somewhere out of sight.  
I look at George, who`s actively trying to avoid my gaze.  
“What about you?” I try to sound casual, but my voice betrays me and comes out weak and on edge.  
He just shrugs, his hand reaching out to fidget with the book I had been using for reference.  
“I`m not in a hurry, I'm keeping my options open,” There was an attempt at sounding playful, but it fell flat to my ears.  
Were things suddenly weird between us, or was he having an off day? Had my secrets changed everything after all? But surely he must have told Fred, I had accounted for that, and he was acting no different towards me. They had come here to seek me out, and they wouldn't do that if they hated me now. Unless it was a keep your friends close and your enemies closer kind of situation. Fred leans forward and taps me on the nose despite my glare, his grin broadening.  
“What George means is that his best option was taken away from him, so he's throwing a hissy fit about it,” He replies.  
George punches him so hard it is bound to hurt, and Fred retreats his arms and lets out a groan, but it fails to wipe the grin off his face. George is scowling at him, but when he glances back at me his expression softens, and I smile carefully, surprised when he mirrors it. He's confusing me; I can't tell whether he's mad or just being weird, and why. I do wonder who his option was though, but I don`t know his group of friends well enough to have any guesses. Hermione, maybe? I could see them work, in an unexpected way, but last time I heard there were rumors about her going with Krum.   
“That sucks, but you could swoop in and steal them away? I think it could work. Otherwise there are plenty of good options, aren`t there? Time`s running out slowly but surely though, so don't wait for too long,'' I muse.  
He sends me an odd look, and Fred is watching him too closely, and it all seems weird all of the sudden. I can't stand it for longer, it's driving me insane. But just as I was about to speak, George stands up and tugs at Fred`s jumper until he too gets up from his seat.  
“We have to go,” He says quickly, but then seems to catch himself. “But see you around, yeah?”  
I nod and am about to let them go, but my mind is screaming at me and I cannot resist. I need clarity. Need, I think, for them to keep being my friends.   
“Let's hang out tomorrow evening? Forbidden forest,” I suggest.  
“Absolutely,” They both say.  
I was expecting them to say no, but they both grin at me, the tension suddenly gone. George takes a step forward, and the table is the only thing separating us. He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger and tugs lightly, smiling at me. My chest tightens and my heart hurts, and no matter how hard I press the palm of my hand against my chest, it would not slow down. I was beginning to realize that the feelings I had for him were not just friendship, not at all like with Fred, and I was definitely in trouble. 

I sneak out of the common room just after the sun has set, easily getting out unseen. Marcus hadn't addressed my presence for the past hour, and I suspected he was annoyed that I had ditched him at lunch to sit with my friends in the hallway, but I couldn't bring myself to care much. Joe was waiting for me outside of the common room, dressed in a bright blue jumper with clouds on it, which was terribly for sneaking around but also absolutely adorable, and I hook my arm through his.  
“ADVENTURE TIME!” He exclaims, and I panicked hush him. “Sorry, I`m excited,”  
Even his whispering is loud, and although there is a vague fear of getting caught, it does little to tone down the happiness I feel. I`m glad Joe wanted to come along even if Amy and Lyra had other plans, and that he did not deem me crazy for sneaking out to hang out in the forbidden forest. I had hurriedly caught him up on the events with Professor Moody and George and then the meeting in the library, and I was grateful he hadn't mentioned how long I had waited to tell him. Instead he was eager to conspire with me, which was actually surprisingly helpful as it made me laugh, and feel like I was less crazy. We get out of the castle okay and follow the winding path down to the forest, lit up by moonlight and stars. I smile to myself before my mind interrupts me and I grab hold of Joe again.  
“Hey… Who do you think Fred meant when he said George missed out on his best option?” I mutter.  
He bites his lip and looks back at the castle.  
“I don`t know. I mean, I try to stay up to date on the gossip, but this one has passed me by. It's mainly Fred that gets around. I know George was dating a hufflepuff girl last year, but they broke up sometime during the summer. They parted as friends though, and that's the vibe they were rumored to have throughout their relationship too, so it might not be her? Actually, probably not because she has graduated,” He explained.  
I hum.  
“I thought maybe Hermione, I could see them work. I`ve seen the twins banter with her, but it might be my mind making things up. She's going with Krum though, which like, you go girl,” I say airly.  
Joe frowns.  
“Why do you sound like that?” He hums and takes a step closer to me, studying my face.  
“What?” I say casually, breaking out into a fast walk.  
“You sound weird,” He notes and follows me, pushing my hat down over my eyes. “Why do you sound weird?”  
I laugh at his action and free my sight again, sending him a playful scowl.  
“I do not sound weird. I'm just wondering,” I defend myself.  
He does not look as if he's ready to drop it, but we spot the twins lingering by the trees at the same time, and he lets out a dramatic defeated sigh.  
“We`ll talk about this later, missy,” He fails to sound serious as he points a gloved finger at me.  
He almost slips on the snow and I reach out my hand to steady him, shaking my head with a chuckle. Maybe debating these feelings with him wasn't a bad idea, but right now was not a good time. I wave to the twins and join them in the shadows, excitement rushing through me at the promise of an adventure.


	35. Chapter 35

Darkness surrounds us, the trees hiding away the night sky, the snow cast in creepy shadows. I don't quite know where we`re going, and I'm surprised I`m not worried about it. I know that the forbidden forest is full of danger and threats, yet I can't bring myself to be afraid. Once we're far enough away from the castle we cast Lumos and let the light guide us, and Fred takes the lead and motions for us to follow in his footsteps. I'm grateful, for this deep in the forest the snow is deep and the ground slippery, and now all I have to do is hop from footprint to footprint. My eyes are beginning to get used to the darkness, but I`m too focused on the path ahead and don't see the icy branch beneath me, and I let out a shriek as I lose footing. I close my eyes and embrace myself for the impact that`s bound to come, but a strong arm wraps around my shoulders and catches me. I float like that for a moment, the tips of my hair brushing against the snow, the tips of my toes barely finding grip; staring up at a pair of bright brown eyes. George is staring right back at me, and a rosy colour on his cheeks and nose, his freckles standing out now that he's flushed by the cold. His lips are slightly parted as he looks at me, and they look so soft and warm that I get the overwhelming urge to press mine against them. I try to forbid my mind from going there, but it is impossible, and once the thought enters my head I don't have the willpower to look away. Warmth tingles throughout me now that the strong rush of adrenaline has passed, mixed with something unfamiliar and powerful and confusing. I hate that I can't decipher it, hate not understanding what it means or why it feels like this; why it feels like I can't breathe yet am breathing in fresh air for the first time in weeks. Like I'm drowning and like I'm resurfacing after being certain I wouldn't make it. It makes no sense and I hate it. Yet when he pulls me to my feet and we`re standing with our feet almost touching and my hands somehow come to rest on his chest and his on the small of my back, I don't hate it. Not one bit. The opposite actually, and my eyes refuse to move away from his lips, refuse to ignore the way they`re still parted as if he wants to be kissed. His breath smells like mint and coffee and I lean in without realizing, and I have to crane my neck to be able to look at him, and I feel so damn vulnerable right there, yet so safe and so ready to conquer anything. I want to hate it. I really do.  
“Keep up!” Fred shouts from further ahead.  
We both jump apart at the exact same time, our boots crunching in the snow as we turn to look at Fred and Joe. They`ve continued without us, but eventually realized we were stuck in our own world, and were now watching us with bemused smiles. I glance back at George, who meets my eyes and chuckles, and the way he places his hand on the small of my back again is so casual that I worry how my mind was capable of wanting him so much when he was just a friend.  
“You okay?” He says softly, his voice rough around the edges.  
I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and we follow the others, and his hand is still there, guiding me through the darkness. Fred and Joe take the lead, and I can hear them talk and laugh, and I allow myself to fall back with George. We walk in silence for a bit, listening to the wind tickle the trees, and I let a smile slip through my facade. It is beautiful out here, with perfectly white snow resting on dark green branches, hints of moonlight shining through.  
“I did well on my homework,” George breaks the silence. “It was fun, actually,”  
I turn to look at him and smile warmly at him, and he mirrors it immediately.  
“I`m glad,” I reply, uncertain what else to add.  
Another pause follows, and I can't quite tell whether it's uncomfortable or not. It feels natural, but at the same time it's full of unsaid words, but I do not know which. George seems to be the one with something on his mind though, and eventually he clears his throat.  
“I`m sorry I was being a dick the other day. About you and Marcus. I-I didn't mean to hurt you,” He mutters.  
I shrug.  
“But you meant it?” I whisper, my eyes refusing to look directly at him.  
I can sense the surprise though, and he fidgets with his scarf before replying.  
“I think that he doesn't treat you right, and I get that I might not know him like you do but… I've known him for 5 years. I`ve seen what he does to people. I just don't want you to get hurt,” He says.  
I frown.  
“George, I`ll be okay. I can look out for myself,”  
He smiles at me again, but this time it has a flicker of sadness that makes my heart hurt.  
“I know. I just really don't want you to get hurt,” He hesitates. “And we`re friends now so… I don`t know, if something happens, or whatever, I`m here. Okay?”  
Tears are pressing against my eyelids, and I have to focus all my energy on holding them back, but they're burning. My throat feels tight and swallowing hurts, and I bump my hip into him softly because it's all I can think of doing.  
“Okay,” I choke out.  
These emotions were actually going to be the death of me.

We reach a clearing after what feels like an hour of trudging through ankle-height snow, but it was well worth the trek. There was a small frozen lake there, and it reminds me I need to drag my friends along to go ice-skating with me this year, and the moon makes the ice look like liquid silver. The sky is clear and speckled with stars, and it's impossibly bright and I`m absolutely in love with it. The trees form a spacious circle, and it almost seems like a pocket of infinity. Joe comes up next to me and rests his head on my shoulder, and I smile against him. We watch the twins throw snowballs at each other, but they have the decency to let us enjoy our moment of peace, and after a minute they take a break to start a fire.  
“We`re literally sending smoke signals to be found,” Joe mutters, but he sounds calm and relaxed.  
I glance at him, at the strands of dyed hair that stick out beneath his blue hat and his red cheeks. He's still watching the twins, a smile playing on his lips, and I rest my chin on his head.  
“Let's join them,” I say finally.  
My thighs are aching from the cold, and I'm beginning to realize tights weren't the best option, and I tuck my hands in my pockets to warm them as we walk over to them. Fred and George grin at us as they kneel before the fire, and Fred engages Joe in a long conversation about Viktor Krum and his game tactics. George joins them for a bit, but he trails off rather quickly, his gaze coming to rest on me. He smiles carefully, and I find my lips want to as well. He stands up and holds out his hand for me, and I accept it as he pulls me up. We follow the trial of moonlight towards the lake and I hop up on a snow-covered rock, balancing on top of it as I am now level with him. He takes a step closer, his red hair illuminated and his freckled skin bright and soft-looking, and I notice that somehow his hand is still in mine and I don't know how it happened or why it felt so right. There were layers of cloth separating our skin, yet he felt warm, my hand so small in his, his fingers giving a little squeeze. His eyes are twinkling, and it takes me a moment to realize that they`re mirroring the stars above, and I'm frightened because of the way that makes me feel. My heart is racing and my lungs feel tight and his lips look soft and warm and perfect, and I want to drown in his gaze. I inhale sharply and he raises an eyebrow, but I'm trying to grasp at my sanity before I do something I'll regret. I can't lose this friendship. I can't ruin it. Besides, Marcus. Right. The guy I was dating, who was almost my boyfriend. Who I was going to the Yule Ball with. Who wasn't the one I was falling in love with beneath a starry night sky.


	36. Chapter 36

George and I are still standing in the clearing bathing in moonlight, neither of us daring to break the silence. His lips have snuck into a grin, and he's watching me as if he`s curious to see what move I'll make next, his fingers trembling as they entwine with mine, the tip of his nose bright red. I reach into my pocket and pull out my music player, the device small and cold to touch, the earphones neatly folded. He raises an eyebrow as I hold out one of the earpieces to him and put the other in my ear, and his confusion makes my skin burn hot, the sensation creeping from my cheeks and down my neck.  
“Music,” I mutter and offer him the device.  
He studies it thoroughly before putting the earpiece in, still looking slightly puzzled.  
“Cool. It's so… small and… odd,” He chuckles.  
“Yeah. It's quite magic when you think about it though,” I explain.  
I take the device back from him, my hand lingering in his for a moment and marveling at the fact that we were now entirely connected, before I draw back. I found the song I was looking for and put my gloves back on, glancing towards where Fred and Joe were seated; still engaged in conversation. The music starts playing, and I smile at George`s expression that`s both stunned and excited at once, his face lighting up. It's an upbeat tune with a steady beat, written by a boyband I should have stopped loving long ago but that just hit the spot, the song about love and life and too perfect for where we were right now. George gently tugs at my arm and I follow without much resistance.  
“Want to dance with me?” George asks, and there's a spark in his eyes that I find overwhelmingly captivating.   
I nod, but I'm hesitant and awkward all of the sudden, my brain beginning to catch up with the situation. He seems to catch on and he takes a step back, but his movement is limited by the cord connecting us, and starts wildly waving his arms around. I laugh, and I'm surprised at the loud burst of it, how genuine it sounds to my own ears, and then I too start dancing. His grin broadened and his gaze locked on me as we danced, and I forget that we`re not alone out here, that Fred and Joe probably are watching us thinking we've gone insane. I focus on the way my body moves on its own accord, how freeing it is as George`s laughter wraps around me like a blanket, how whole I feel right there. I tilt my head back and look up at the sky, at the stars that are shining so brilliantly for us, and somehow his arms have come around my waist. He's lifting me off the ground and my hands rest on his shoulders for support, and we're spinning around and around but I don't feel dizzy. I bathe in the starlight, the sound of music distant in my ear, whispering of infinity and stars and love, and I feel like I'm flying. Like George and I are one with the stars above, in our own pocket of infinity.

I say goodbye to my friends as we enter the Great Hall, promising we`ll catch up in class and that I'll tell them about their adventure, but I suspect Joe will beat me to it. My eyes fall on the Slytherin table where Marcus is sitting with his usual group, and I walk over to him and touch his shoulder lightly. He looks up and raises an eyebrow, but motions for the girl next to him to scoot over. She lets out an annoyed huff but obeys, and I sit down next to him. He settles his hand on my lower back and I suppress a shiver, but he's tense, his thin lower lip trembling.  
“You`ve got to stop hanging out with those people,” He mutters under his breath.  
I frown, glancing at him.  
“What, who?” Then realization dawns on me. “You mean my friends?”  
“Yes, it's embarrassing, honestly,” He hisses.  
People are looking our way, but the glare he gives them has them pretending they`re not listening in on our conversation.  
“Why would it be embarrassing?” I ask him sharply.  
He rolls his ideas and glares at me the same way he had at those surrounding us, which makes me feel like a wounded puppy.  
“Mudbloods, half-bloods, traitors. Weasleys,” He spits each word, visibly shivering.  
My hands are trembling and I lay them in my lap, balling them into visits.  
“They`re my friends. You can't speak about them like that,” I say, voice shaky but growing louder nonetheless.  
“And you can`t associate yourself with them anymore, you're embarrassing us. We`re better than them,” He replies, and the anger in his tone is powerful and overwhelming.  
People are definitely watching us now, but I refuse to back down even as my cheeks are burning.  
“Embarrassing you? They're good people. Being around them would do you good,” I bite back.  
He growls and whips around to face me.  
“They`re disgusting, pathetic people. STOP. BEING. NICE. TO. THEM,” He replies.  
He's lost all his charm now, the drawl gone from his voice and the mysterious features of his face drawn up in anger. His eyes are dark and cold, defiant. There is a rush of fear at the intensity and hatred in his gaze, and goosebumps rise on my skin.   
“Marcus. Let it go,” Margot leans over the table to tap his hand, but he withdraws it.  
If looks could kill, she'd be in trouble, but she looks unbothered, shaking her curly hair over her shoulders.  
“Shut up Margot,” Marcus hisses.  
“He's right, though. I don't know why we keep letting her hang out with us when she hangs out with those people. She's not THAT hot. At all,” Draco jumps in, and my head whips around.  
He's leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed, and his eyes reveal that he's just joining to piss me off and create a scene.  
“It's not exactly YOU I'm hanging out with,” I say, trying to keep my voice casual. “That's not a very tempting offer,”  
This earns a chuckle from Blaise and a slight smile from Margot, but the air around us tenses, and the bystanders are creating distance between us. I raise an eyebrow at that, but I`m also beginning to worry I overstepped a boundary. Still, I couldn't back down. Or could I? I roll my eyes dramatically and stand, leaning over to press a kiss against Marcus`s temple even though my stomach is mustering up a storm before I straighten. I let my gaze glide over them all, hoping I look cold, and then my eyes settle on Marcus.  
“See you when you're not being an asshole,” I say and grab my purse, hoisting it over my shoulder before striding out of the Great Hall.  
I can just about hear the insult Marcus shouts after me, but I flee the scene with some of my pride. It should feel like I've won this argument, because in a way I think I might have, but that doesn't stop the tears from threatening to spill. I bite them back and plaster on a neutral expression as I make my way to class.


	37. Chapter 37

Amy and I are seated in the transfiguration classroom working on vanishing spells, which is proving to be difficult, but we both agree that it's also kind of fun. She's had to dye her hair back to her natural colour, which is a deep honey blonde, but I can see that she`s used a concealing charm as the blue hue catches in the light. Amy looks up when the professor is occupied up front, and she leans over to whisper to me.  
“Hey, you okay? I heard you had an argument with Marcus,” She says softly.  
She looks so genuinely concerned that I want to reach over and hug her, but that would disturb the spell she's just about to nail.  
“Yeah,” Then when she gives me a skeptical glance, I add. “I am actually. It sucked, but it ended up okay in the end, I think. It just got messy, you know. I think Marcus just feels like he hasn't seen me around maybe?”  
Amy raises an eyebrow, but she does her best to not look like she`s questioning me.  
“Okay… Okay, Jess. But even if he felt that way, he should have communicated that,” She begins carefully.  
She might be in a picture-perfect relationship, but she didn't realize that not all of us could be. Wasn't aware that some of us weren't meant to be loved like that.  
“Yeah. We`ll talk it out. He knows I won't let him talk about my friends like that. I think it would be good for him to hang out with us sometimes,” I try, but I know I don't sound convincing.  
“And he wants that?” Her patience and judgement-free voice was cracking at the seams, but she was doing her best and I appreciated her for it.  
Still, I had grown bored of having to defend Marcus. Most of all of having to defend him to myself. I sigh.  
“Look, Amy, I don't know. Just… let me handle my own relationship?” I decide.  
She chews her lip thoughtfully.  
“If that's what you need from me, Jess. I just want to make sure you`re okay, you know. You deserve good things, even if you might not see it yourself. I hear you when you say he's a better guy beneath the surface, and I actually don't doubt that, but… You don't have to fix him. You don't have to fix them to redeem yourself,” She whispers slowly.  
I nudge her softly as she finishes up her spell, putting her wand down and pretending to jot down some notes as the Professor looks over.  
“And you know I appreciate you, Amy. I know you guys care. But this one I need to figure out on my own, and all I want right now is a little trust,” I reply.  
Still, I can`t deny that her words struck me, and I find myself grateful for having met my friends when I did. I'd be nowhere without them, wouldn't have been able to grow into who I was without them by my side. I wouldn't let anyone take that away from me. I wouldn't be forced to choose between them, I refused to. I`d choose both, make Marcus see his faults, to make him realize he was wrong. I'd make it work, somehow.

It barely took until the end of the day before people grew bored of gossiping about my relationship with Marcus, as they were too occupied discussing the Yule Ball that was coming up in a week. My friends and I had planned on going shopping for dresses in the morning as we had a day off, and I was excited to spend some quality time with them. But before that, I had to clean up my messes. I found Marcus practicing some complicated looking quidditch technique after classes, and I admired him for his dedication. It was snowing so much it was hard to see, and the cold was harsh and unforgiving even through my layers. I stood by one of the hoops and watched him for a moment, surprised that he was alone. I don't think I had ever caught him on his own, his friends usually mere steps behind. He spots me and I worry he's going to ignore me and keep me waiting for him in the cold, but after a few minutes he lands a distance away from me and dismounts his broom. He`s soaking wet, his uniform an emerald green and his dark hair dripping, the snow almost coming up over his boots. He's not wearing gloves and I don't know why, because surely the wind up there must be punishing, and his fingers are a mix of purple and red. Despite the frostbite kissing his skin he looks different than he usually does when he`s in a crowd. Calmer, and not the kind of calm before a storm either. Like he can finally breathe when he's playing quidditch on his own, when he can drop the act.  
“Smiles,” He acknowledges me.  
He's put on his facade again, I can see it in the way his jaw tenses and his forehead creases into a permanent scowl.  
“Can we talk?” I ask carefully, watching him apprehensively.  
He nods and we walk up to the seating area, and I melt away the snow so that we can sit. I consider casting a warming spell on him, but somehow I don't think he`ll appreciate it, and my magic was still feeling a bit drained after last night's training and a day of classes. I know there`s no use in waiting for him to apologize, so I have to find a way to make him feel remorse without him realizing it. I heavily relied on him actually giving a fuck about me, and right now I wasn't so sure he did.  
“If you can`t accept my friends, this isn't going to work,” I begin with practiced patience.  
This should not feel as easy as it does, and it's almost like the sentence to end whatever is between us is resting just below the surface, and it wants to be spoken. But when his fingers drum against his knee and he shifts, there is something in me that can't do it. That doesn't want to.  
“They`re less than us, Smiles,” He says, and while he genuinely sounds disgusted by that, he lacks the bite his tone had earlier today.  
I sigh.  
“Marcus, I get that you grew up with these bullshit ideals and that you`re constantly surrounded by these opinions. But I'm not going to change. Not for you, not for anyone,” I reply.  
I`d thought I`d feel anxious, afraid, but I was surprising myself with how collected I felt. It must have been the outlet of magic, and having surrounded myself with friends for the past few days.  
“I can`t mingle with them, Smiles. Being involved with you is already a far stretch,” He growls.  
I study him intently, and I so desperately want to hate him, to be angry for being cruel and viewing the world this way. But I see the hurt buried way beneath the surface, the one he's trying so hard to keep hidden. He's a product of hatred, I realize, and growing up in the midst of it must be hard. I was lucky to have gotten out of it when I did. Maybe if I hadn't, I`d be like him.  
“Then why are you with me?” I`m afraid to ask, but I do it anyway.  
I want this to be real, need it to be. Need to understand the feelings I have for him, but I don`t. He shrugs.  
“You`re hot,” He mutters.  
I can tell he's not telling me the full truth, that he`is withdrawing and about to close the conversation. But he's talked more than he ever has to me, and I can't let this moment slip.  
“See, if I thought that was all, I'd have gotten up and left right now. But there's something else, isn't there? A reason you can't stay away from me. I know you get a lot of crap from your friends about it, that you have them convinced it's because I`m mysterious, and… “hot”, whatever that means. But I don't buy it. You have other options, yet you stay with me,” I confront him.  
His hand is trembling, and I lay mine over his, glad I`m wearing gloves so he doesn't notice how sweaty my palms have become. He refuses to look at me.  
“You`re… dangerous, Smiles. It was never meant to be anything. I was gonna fuck you and bail. But you`re magnetic, and having you around… The world`s going to fucking destroy you,” He bites.  
I frown. He was not making any sense.  
“Why?” I ask carefully, but I'm not sure I want to know the answer.  
“Because you`re too soft, Smiles. And that gets mistaken for weakness. It's going to destroy you,” He mutters.  
“But?” I continue, knowing he will only let me push him so far, suspecting we're nearing the limit.  
“I`m still fucking falling for you,” He groans, and my heart is racing. “But I'm not going to make sacrifices for you. I`m not putting up with more shit than this from my friends, not gonna be seen hanging out with your people. Not gonna be nice to them or treat them other than they deserve. It's this, or nothing,”  
Maybe he is losing more than me if we end this. But there's an honesty to him now, mixed with hints of cruelty and terror and darkness, a desperation as if he wants to be saved, and I can't resist it. I wish I could, but I liked the feeling of being needed, of being… appreciated, of a kind. Of him, with his cold interior and scowls, falling in love with me.


	38. Chapter 38

Both Joe and Lyra had been sent clothing for the Yule Ball from home, but Amy and I were still in need of dresses and our time was beginning to run out. Joe had shown us a neat black suit with a pale blue bow-tie that was bound to look good on him, and Lyra`s dress was simple but elegant. Amy had asked her parents to send some fabric over and was set on sewing her own dress, but this morning she started over for the fifth time on an entirely different concept, and if she wanted to hurry she would have to decide what she was going for soon. I had nothing, and although Amy offered to help make something for me, I couldn't quite envision anything. We fled into the clothing shop after being hit by a snow storm on the way here, and it was safe to say that Hogsmeade didn't provide many options. Most of the racks were already picked through, but lucky for us the shop owner was just putting out a new shipment that had come in for any last-minute shoppers. Perfect for us. Joe comes up next to me as I sift through the dresses, holding a few up until I shake my head.  
“Hey, who were you going with?” I ask him suddenly.  
He grins at me, his smile broad and genuine.  
“One of the Beauxbatons boys,” He replies proudly. “Gabriel. He seems nice,”  
I smile, glad he gets to go with someone he's actually drawn to, but I can't recall anyone named Gabriel. Then again, I don't think I can name any of the Beauxbatons students except Fleur. He holds up an embroidered ivory dress, and I pause to study it. It wasn't very yule ball esque, but it had beautiful colored flowers, and it looked rather sweet. Lyra pushed a skin-tight mint green dress into my arms that I wasn't sure was my style, but the fabric felt silky against my skin so it could be an option. I slipped into the dressing room next to Amy to try them on, listening to the conversation she was having with herself about changes she could make. The dress Lyra picks out is unique, and I don't hate it, and it clings to my curves in a sexy way, but I don't quite like the color; it makes me look a bit sickly. The other dress is absolutely beautiful with puffy sleeves and a flared out skirt, but it is an item I could see myself wearing during spring or summer, and not necessarily to a ball. Besides, I felt like people were expecting a lot from me, Marcus at least. Being on his arm would mean many eyes were on us and I had to live up to a certain standard.  
“Any suggestions?” I call out, just as Amy steps out in a lavender dress.  
It's calf-length and the fabric looks luxurious and hits her in all the right spots, her cleavage full and elegant, and she's smiling so broadly I know it`s the one.  
“You look amazing,” Joe and I echo, and Lyra is quick to agree.  
Amy jumps up and down in excitement, twirling around in her newfound dress.  
“Just a few changes and it will be perfect!” She squeals, and we all laugh with her.  
Then she stops mid-spin and heads straight for a rack in the back, actually breaking out in a jog. She pulls out a dress and holds it up to me, and I feel my eyes widen.  
“JESS!” She screams, and Joe hurries over to study it closer.  
“This is perfect for you!” Joe joins her in her excitement.  
“No,” I say firmly, shaking my head. “Absolutely not,”  
Lyra looks thoughtful, then shrugs.  
“It's a beautiful dress,” She comments.  
“It looks like liquid gold,” I exclaim, but my eyes are fixed on the dress.  
It is undeniably beautiful, with a corset like top and mesh sleeves in a similar shade of gold. The skirt looks to be somewhere between fitted and flowy, and it is by far the most incredible dress I have ever seen. It is also incredibly extra, and I will not wear it. Enough people would already be looking, and talking, about me. I didn't need to serve a reason to do so on a silver, or gold, platter.  
“It would look perfect on you!” Amy pouts at me. “Honestly, try it on,”  
I reach out for it and Amy lets out another ear-piercing squeal and hands it to me. I disappear into the dressing room, but I need her assistance in lacing it up shortly after, and I turn around to face the mirror when she's done. The top is gorgeous, and I love how it sits around my waist and lifts my boobs, and the sleeves are dainty as they fall off the shoulders. I'm surprised at the depth of the gold and the way it looks both solid and sparkly, and if it was possible to fall in love with a dress, I`m pretty sure I had. Still, the skirt was too long on me and dragged on the floor, and didn't sit in the most flattering way. Amy sees my frown and smiles encouragingly.  
“I can fix the skirt and make it a million times better,” She whispers, her expression bright.  
I make eye contact with her through the mirror and nod.  
“Let's do it,” I reply.  
She jumps up and down in excitement and Joe joins her, and I can't help but smile along with them. The dance was bound to be incredible in a dress like this. Maybe Marcus would soften up when he saw me in it. Maybe someone else would be watching too.

I walk with Marcus and his group to his next class as mine is not far away, and while Blaise is telling me jokes that are quite funny, Marcus remains silent. He walks a solid stride ahead, his lips a thin line, and barely kisses me goodbye, the notion rushed and awkward. He's the same way during lunch and does not engage in conversation with anyone, and when I try to place a comforting hand on his shoulder he shakes it off and glares at me. I raise my eyebrow at him, but he looks away. There`s something off about him, an aura of anger and frustration surrounding him that make people go out of their way to avoid him, but I stay put, occasionally brushing my arm past his. I`m about to get up to join Joe and Lyra before class, but he nods towards the bench again.  
“Sit,” He growls.  
I frown at him, but drop back down anyways before I can think it through. My confusion must show, because Blaise nudges me.  
“Don`t mind him, he gets like this. Daddy`s probably told him off,” Blaise mutters, loud enough for anyone sitting within a 5 meter radius to hear.  
“Shut up Blaise,” Marcus hisses, slamming his fist on the table.  
Everyone goes quiet, including me, until they start a conversation at the other end. The tension`is still there, but it seems like the others are used to it. I wonder what Blaise meant with Marcus`s dad being mad though, and realize there is so much that I don`t know about him and his life that they do. That kind of hurts, but I have a feeling he's not in a telling mood. I meet him with them again after class, and he's still cold and distant. He's covering the hallways in long strides, and I'm uncertain as to where he's headed because it's not the common room. His friends keep a safe distance though, and they still seem unconcerned, so I turn to Blaise.  
“What's going on with him?” I ask, masking the concern I felt for him.  
Blaise shrugs and casts a glance towards Marcus, his arm around Margot.  
“He gets like this sometimes, don`t worry. Best to stay clear off him for a while though,” Blaise mutters.  
I frown, and for a moment I consider heading his advice. But I found it odd none of his friends tried to intervene and talk to him. If it were me who was this upset, I'd count on them to talk to me, no matter how much I rejected him.  
“Hey, Marcus, wait up!” I call after him.   
He stops and turns around slowly, glaring at me.  
“Don`t, Smiles,” Blaise warns.  
But I'm already catching up with Marcus despite the warning bells going off within me, wanting to take some of that hurt away.


	39. Chapter 39

“What do you want, Smiles?” He hisses, arms crossed.  
He has never looked at me like he did then; with hatred and pure disgust filling up his eyes. Yet there was a shadow of something else beyond it, a hint of what I recognized as fear, and that was enough for me to stand my ground. I reach out for him, but he jerks away and my heart skips a beat, and I beg for his rejection to stop hurting. We`re drawing an audience as everyone is finished with classes and killing time before dinner, meaning the hallways are currently being flooded. Still, despite the slight panic rushing through me at the thought of having an audience, I close the distance between us. There's a scent on him that`s both familiar and unfamiliar, one that isn't his regular muskiness, but something I have associated him with before. Alcohol, I realize, a faint waft of it.  
“Let's get out of here?” I whisper gently.  
He stares down at me, and for a moment I think I see his exterior soften, but then it's gone and replaced by a nasty curl of his lips.  
“Honestly, fuck off,” He snarls.  
My mouth drops, and it takes me a second to compose myself. Something has definitely happened, and he's just redirecting that at the one person showing care. That's not abnormal.  
“Okay, but let's go somewhere?” I keep my voice low, wanting to keep the conversation between us.  
There`s no more hesitation visible on him now, no glimmer of softness, and he takes an abrupt step back.  
“You… drive me insane. You think you`re something, but you're nothing. Nothing,” He's shouting, but it sounds distant to me.  
I`m trembling, and I can't quite tell whether it's hurt or anger or worry or fear. I`m still convincing myself he`s just projecting his hurt, trying to justify it, but I`m fumbling with how to receive such harsh words.  
“Oh,” I say lamely, weakly, then clear my throat. “I'm… Sorr.. Marcus, I get that there`s something going on but…,”  
“Making presumptions, are we? Maybe you`re just annoying. Maybe I'm just tired of your bullshit,” He glares at me.  
I can hear people muttering all around me, and I can hear laughter from behind and I don`t know whether it's off me or of the situation and I hate having created a scene.  
“I`m… N-not making presumptions. Just, talk to me?” I ask him, but he's barely letting me finish.  
“Don`t you realize you`re annoying? Like, I only keep you around because you`ve got that entire quiet mysterious girl vibe going, but now you bore me,” He takes a step closer and I instinctively take one back.  
“Okay? That's not what you told me the other day, and you can't speak to me like that even if you`re upset,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest, realizing I had to change tactics to get through to him.  
I could feel the familiar tingling at the tip of my fingers, and tucking them away would be safer, just in case. My emotions were currently a whirlwind within me, and I had to stay in control of them. Marcus rolls his eyes at me, then catches sight of someone behind me. I glance over my shoulder and see my friends, who are probably on their way to the great hall, their expressions questioning as if they`re waiting for me to ask them to step in. I can't do that to them though. I don't need them to.  
“Don`t you get it? You were just some amusement,” He hisses. “You hang out with losers, which makes you one too, and think you`re all smart and friendly and shit, but you`re nothing Smiles,”  
I take a deep breath as I feel the magic rush throughout me and tears are desperate to come out, but I hold them back with all my might and force myself to shrug coolly.   
“I`m not the losing part here, Marcus,” I say casually, and somehow my voice is steady and calm.  
I turn around to join my friends and catch another group approaching, with two tall gingers in the lead, and my heart sinks. I hope they did not witness this spectacle, because having to admit they were right was not something I was ready for now. I was angry, and hurt, and it bothered me that I knew something had happened to make Marcus upset that I couldn't figure out, that I couldn't fix. I was also mad that that was the thing I was more bothered about rather than the things he said to me. I hear a shout from somewhere ahead, but my instincts have already told me what's about to happen, my senses on high alert. I jerk my wand out of the waistband of my skirt and spin around to deflect the spell Marcus has cast at my back. It bounces off the wall and people shriek and hurry out of the way. Marcus' eyes are full of shadows, and I don`t recognize him like that, with his wand raised and his hand steady, and I'm certain he'd hurt me if I let him. Maybe I had been blind all along.  
“Stupify!” He shouts.  
But my magic flared up the second my fingers brushed the cool wood of my wand, and it's clawing to get out. I don't have to think about what I`m casting, and the protection spell is one I don`t recognize, a glowing shape before me serving as a shield. His jinx collides with it and evaporates immediately, and so does the next one he casts my way. They're getting crueler, and while his casting is weak and poorly executed, his attempts anger me, and my magic is pouring out of the seams; creating a navy glow around my wand that runs all the way up my arm and stretches towards Marcus. He stares at it, suddenly realizing he had underestimated me, or overestimated himself.  
“Freak,” He says, and casts a knockback jinx that takes me a slight flick of my hand to deflect.  
“Stupify,” I say calmly, and a blue light shoots out of my wand and hits him straight in the chest.  
It sends him flying backwards, much further than I had intended, and he lands with a loud thud and a groan. I gasp in surprise at my own doings, clutching my hand to my chest, wand still glowing. I fail to notice that Marcus has recovered enough to raise his wand at me again and sends a blood-red spell my way I don`t recognize, but I'm frozen to the ground.  
“No you don`t,” A voice says right behind me.  
I glance back as George blocks the charm, and see that he has come up to my right and Fred on my left, and that my friends are standing right behind me. When did they get so close? Fred and George step in front of me, and chaos interrupts. Marcus`s friends have finally swept in, and Draco and Theo, as well as Grabbe and Goyle and some others from the quidditch team I can`t name have surrounded him, and they`re shouting curses at us. My gaze falls on Blaise, who looks bored as he leans against the wall, his wand nowhere in sight. He sees me looking and gives me the smallest smile, and I worry what the loyalty is going to cost him.  
“What is going on?” Professor McGonagall shouts over the ruckus.  
Everyone freezes, the crowd separating to let her through. Great, just what I needed; trouble.


	40. Chapter 40

The following days feel... odd. I`m present, and I show up to classes on our final day before the break, and I roam the castle with my friends, but I feel distant. Marcus seems to have made running into me at any possible time a game, and it bothers me. It reminds me of what happened, of the hurt I was feeling, and I didn't want it, I didn't want everyone's eyes on me wherever I went. Being invisible was a whole lot better than being gossiped about. Besides, I had a feeling that Marcus wasn't done. Professor McGonagall had decided not to punish me once parts of the story had come slipping out of me through tears, and she seemingly had taken pity on me and not on him. There were moments where I thought Marcus might want to speak to me, where he hesitated a second too long while walking past, but then he turned his gaze into a glare and fixed it on me. I sigh as Joe leans his head on my shoulder in the library, my expression distant. I glance down at my hands resting in my lap, in the innocence of that sight. Small, with fidgety fingers, two of them with slight bruises at the very top from where I`d apparently clutched on to my wand for dear life. I had been so close to losing control during that argument, yet I felt no fear. It felt so much better than the constant anxiety, and the power was almost a relief. That in itself was a scary thought, the realization of how good that magic actually felt when my mind decided it needed it. The line between safety and danger, between light and darkness, was thin and frail, and I suspected it only needed the slightest nudge from me before I stumbled in the wrong direction.  
"I don't get why it hurts," I suddenly bust out.  
Lyra pauses her schoolwork to look at me, then nods solemnly.  
"That's okay. Sometimes it doesn't have to make sense," She replies slowly.  
I smile gratefully at her.  
"It`s.... I mean, I wasn't in love with him. I think. I wasn`t that... captivated either. But it still sucks," I hesitate, uncertain how to explain.  
"And you don't have anyone to go with to the Yule Ball in two days," Amy points out.  
I know she doesn`t mean any harm by it, but it wasn't very helpful. Joe nudges her and she apologizes quickly.  
"Yeah. I don`t know if I`m going anymore," I sigh, leaning back in my chair.  
Amy gasps.  
"You have to! Or, you don`t, if you really don't want to, but I don't want you to miss out just because you don't have a date. Lyra and I are going with some others, so you could just join us," She exclaims.  
She failed to mention some of the others included her girlfriend and her group, but it actually didn't sound so bad.  
"I`ll think about it,'' I say, and then put on a smile so Amy doesn't feel guilty. "I`m getting some fresh air, catch up with you tonight?"  
We say our goodbyes and I walk through the castle, trying to ignore the stares of students I pass, but it sends my heart racing. I pull my jacket tighter around me and head to the bridge, leaning over the railing and looking out over the snowy grounds. The cold wood feels good against my skin, the sensation grounding me, and I draw in winter air as I try to sort out my thoughts. I was okay. I was. But why didn`t I feel that way?   
"Hey love," A voice behind me says.  
I turn around and face one of the Weasley twins, most of his face obscured by a scarf and a hat. Long locks of red stick out from beneath, and for a second I think it's George, but my mind catches on quickly. Fred.  
"Hey," I mutter, redirecting my attention to the view again.  
It was odd for him to seek me out rather than George, and part of me was disappointed, and another curious. Still, I felt so overwhelmingly drained, emotionally empty, and I had nothing left to give for banter or small talk or whatever he threw at me. To my surprise he comes to stand next to me, leaning his elbows on the railing, and remains silent for a while before glancing at me.  
"You okay?" He asks.  
Carefully, almost as if he actually cares. I don`t fail to notice the tremble in his hands, the light bouncing of his leg; as if staying still is a task to him. I do appreciate his efforts though. I nod in response, but I know for a fact that biting back his retort costs him a great deal.  
"Yes, and no?" I offer then to cut him some slack. "I hope you guys didn't get into trouble. You didn`t have to.... I`m sorry you got into trouble... but thanks,"  
Fred smiles warmly and nudges me lightly with his hip to draw a breathy chuckle from me.  
"Nothing we can`t handle. Besides, a few hours of detention was mild, I think Professor McGonagall thought Marcus got what he deserved," Fred laughed, the sound booming.  
It`d be contagious if I were in any other mood, but now I didn't have the energy. I rub my temple.  
"How do you make sense of something that doesn't make sense?" I ask him.  
Mostly because I couldn't bear the silence, and also because I was genuinely curious. I caught myself wondering how George would have answered that question, thought that he would not be bouncing his leg like the energy building up within him was about to burst, like containing it all felt unnatural. Still, Fred was here and George was not.  
"Shit. I don't know. What doesn't make sense? I might be able to make sense of things not making sense and how to make it make sense without it making sense if you give me some clues," Fred says.  
"It's hard to explain," I mutter, suddenly regretting I said anything at all.  
"Try me," Fred says surprisingly gentle.  
"Marcus and I... We were just dating, it wasn't anything serious. I wasn't in love, I think. I would know if I were, wouldn't I? Some days I did not even like him, but still, I feel so empty. Why do I feel so empty, so drained?" I sigh.  
He hums thoughtfully, much like George does when he has to answer a question he doesn't have an immediate answer to.  
"Because you cared, and because he treated you poorly despite it? Or maybe because of it? Because being with him was a burden, but also a gift of some sort?" He offers.  
At this point it sounds like he's throwing out random ideas, but it is not entirely unhelpful.  
"Yes to all, maybe. I know you hate him, that you hate most in Slytherin. And I get why people don't like him, because I`ve seen what he does to others. Yet he can be charming when he wants to be, and beneath it....," I trail off, uncertain what I'm trying to say.  
Fred sighs, then places a hand on my shoulder.  
“I don`t, well, okay, fair. I'm quick to judge. And I don't like Marcus, and I never will, because I see how he treats people and how he behaves and I cannot stand him. But I also know that you`re not stupid and that you saw a reason for being with him, whatever it was. We do crazy things when we want to be loved,” He finally says.  
And that was just it, I think. I wanted to be loved, desperately. For someone to see me for who I really was beneath the cold exterior and rejections I use to protect myself. Perhaps especially to be loved by someone who to most seems incapable of love, and I think I was, I am, in love with the idea of changing someone, of saving someone. It was an ideal I had clung on to, and part of me still wanted Marcus to be in love with me, wanted to be his lifeline and the one to prove he wasn't as bad as everyone thought he was. I still didn't think he was. I`d seen the pain buried deep, had felt his touch soften on rare occasions and felt that desperation to be loved. It was a feeling I recognized, after all. Maybe some people couldn't be saved or maybe some people didn't want to be saved once they realized the price of it.


End file.
